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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624323">A Good Omens Carole - Christmas Rom/Com</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angels_Dineing_At_The_Ritz/pseuds/Angels_Dineing_At_The_Ritz'>Angels_Dineing_At_The_Ritz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Break Up, Christmas, Gay Sex, Ghosts of Christmas, Human AU, Hurt feelings, I wish I could write smut but alas, Idiots in Love, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Inspired by Scrooged, Lucifer isn't really Lucifer, M/M, Michael and Gabriel are a gay couple, Michael is male presenting, Pining, Shooting, Uriel is a baby, aziraphale is male, baby adoption, cheesy i love yous, corpse ghost, crowley is male, dead parent mention, gay men, ghost visitations, gun - Freeform, mentions of sex but no smut, nobody gets shot except an already dead guy, past mentions of child neglect/abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:07:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,165</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angels_Dineing_At_The_Ritz/pseuds/Angels_Dineing_At_The_Ritz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on A Christmas Carol, also based on Scrooged and other various versions of Dickens Christmas Carol. Crowley is an intern for a television network and Aziraphale works in a homeless shelter. Crowley wants money and power, but that comes later in life. Aziraphale just wants to be happy with Crowley. He'd live in a three room apartment with him forever but Crowley wants more.<br/>Ultimately, there will be a happy ending.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Gabriel &amp; Michael (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Awkward Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was an unusually snowy night in Soho but it made it seem all the more Christmassy. Shops were lit with green, red and gold. Tiny white lights glittered in the windows and decorated little potted evergreen trees along the sidewalk. The fresh snow illuminated everything making it look like a picture postcard. Traffic was at a near standstill but no one seemed to be too upset about it. </p><p>Aziraphale, was getting the last of his Christmas presents. Nothing really, just some odds and ends to use to wrap gifts, some candy canes, tape and ribbons. It was Christmas Eve eve, December 23rd and the little drugstore around the corner from his flat had some great clearance sales so he was stocking up on other things too. By the time he was finished, he had two rather large paper  shopping bags which he carried one in each arm and began backing against the shop door to go out into the very snowy night. He didn't get far when the door hit something... or someone to be exact, followed by a moan.</p><p> </p><p>A thin red-haired man had just stopped near the door to pick up his keys that he'd dropped in the snow and was rewarded by being bunked in the forehead with the shop door. Luckily, his thick knitted hat took the brunt of the blow but he held his head with one hand as he stood up just as he heard a  lilting voice gushing apologies.</p><p>"Oh dear! Oh, I'm so sorry..are you alright?" the voice asked. Aziraphale had set one bag down in the snow on the sidewalk and now his hand hovered near the other man's head.</p><p>"I should have watched where I was going..... Oh dear, I'm sorry..." he fretted. </p><p> </p><p>"You said that already..." the redhead moaned and finally took his hand away from rubbing his forehead . "... it's okay. Really, I just..." he looked up and made eye contact with the most ice blue eyes he'd ever seen. They took his breath away in that moment as well as his speech.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you sure?" Aziraphale asked, putting his hand on the stranger's shoulder.</p><p>The stranger nodded rather stupidly. "Yes... fine." he heard himself say.</p><p>Aziraphale looked the stranger over, bundled up in a thick Pea coat, black gloves, a red scarf and a red knit hat that clashed horribly with his bright auburn strands that fell out beneath it in loose, damp waves. </p><p>"I think the hat is what saved me." he smiled and could feel a blush warming his skin though it was too cold to actually see it. His face was already feeling the effects of the cold night.</p><p> </p><p>"It looks .... protective!" Aziraphale beamed, his eyes going back to the horned decoration on the man’s head. "Are they... <em>reindeer horns</em>?" he asked, an amused little smirk curling at his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Nngk,..  Err.. umm...I guess, yeah..” he muttered, </p><p>It’s owner reached up and patted the crocheted hat and antlers and pulled it around his head a little more. “Yeah ... it was a gift and ... it's warm." he gushed, now feeling completely embarrassed.</p><p>"It's a good hat... it's a good look." Aziraphale nodded, still clearly amused by it and now a bit enamored by the bright hazel eyes that in the light of the shop window, looked golden. </p><p> The redhead looked down at the ground again, still searching for his keys. "I dropped my keys..."</p><p>"And I nearly dropped you." Aziraphale joked, helping to brush the snow away with his foot as they looked together, but as they both descended to bend down and look, they're heads met with a <em>thunk!</em></p><p>"<strong><em>OW!</em></strong>" they said in unison and both brought a hand up to their foreheads mirroring one another. </p><p>"<em>Sorry</em>!" Aziraphale moaned again.</p><p>"You stay <em>here</em>." the man suggested holding one gloved finger up, "I'll go down <em>there</em>." he pointed down, not taking his eyes off the other’s desperately sorrowful blue ones. “Right?” </p><p>Aziraphale nodded and smiled. "Okay."</p><p>When the man stood up again, he dangled his keys in front of him to shake off the snow. "Got 'em." he announced with a grin. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gave a huff of relief and smiled brightly, “Oh.. very good!” , and leaned down to pick up his bag again.</p><p>“Ah… here let me…” the other man began to say and leaned down just barely grazing Aziraphale’s head again before stopping himself, “Ah!” he chirped and backed off, “not that again!”</p><p>“Oh…” Aziraphale gushed, “I’m afraid we’re not very good at that.” he offered with a chuckle and retrieved his bag on his own. “But thank you.” </p><p> They stood awkwardly for a second, neither wanting to leave without knowing more about the gorgeous man before them but not knowing what to say now at such a chance encounter. One cannot simply ask for a strangers phone number based on literally bumping into them, can they?</p><p> </p><p>"Doing some last minute shopping?" the man asked, peeking over the bag, desperate to keep the adorable angelic-like man talking to him and  hating that it was the best he came up with.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh indeed,... they're having a wonderful sale so.. just stocking up." Aziraphale replied. “Should you need gift wrap or stocking stuffers or… what have you.” </p><p> </p><p>The redhead who til a few seconds ago absolutely was trembling with cold,  completely forgot  that he was shivering or wet or that it was even snowing at all. This guy's smile was like pure sunlight and he just basked in it.</p><p>“Hm… that so?” he replied, “You have a lot of wrapping to do still, it seems,” he said, eyeing the several packets of santa-covered paper in his sacks. </p><p>Aziraphale chuckled a bit, looking away from the lovely man with the golden eyes and angular face to look at the contents of his bags, “Oh… well, mostly stocking up for next year while the prices are good.” </p><p>“Ah..” nodded the man, “very practical of you.” Oh god why couldn’t he think of anything else to say? There had to be a way to turn this idle conversation into getting this cherub’s phone number. </p><p>There was another seconds long pause before Aziraphale threw him a line, making it clear that he was in no hurry to end this little happenstance either, </p><p>"Do you drop your keys on this block often?"</p><p>The redhead had the most extraordinary, wide and genuine smile,  "Try not to... first time I did it and look what happens." He rubbed his forehead again.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry... again. I hope I didn't hurt you.... " Aziraphale said again, "or that hat" he grinned wider, making the sun seemingly shine even brighter.</p><p> </p><p>The man laughed. "Nope.. I think we'll both make it okay." he replied, rubbing the front of the hat again before trying to tuck a stray damp, auburn strand back underneath it, only to make it worse with his glove.</p><p> </p><p>So, should he just introduce himself or...?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Aziraphale... " the blonde suddenly blurted out and shuffled both bags into one hand, balancing them awkwardly on his hip so that he could reach a free hand out to the stranger. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, erm.. Uh… Aziraphale..." he said the name like it was to be revered , "Crowley." and shook the other gloved hand.</p><p> </p><p>"Nice to meet you, Crowley." he said and the way he said his name made Crowley blink... or maybe it was the massive snowflakes that were falling and hitting his eye lashes.</p><p>"Well... Merry Christmas.. " Aziraphale said and wished he could think of something else to say or some way to ask the lovely man out , "... I should let you get going."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh.. I'm just ... escaping the office holiday party." Crowely shrugged, "you're not keeping me. I'm just stopping over there " he pointed to a café on the corner, "to get some take out and go home."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked over his shoulder at the café. It was one he was quite familiar with as he only lived around the corner. He himself was all but shocked at the next words that left his mouth. </p><p>"Well... I could use a hot chocolate if you want some company for a few minutes." he suggested, trying not to sound too ridiculously hopeful. Crowley was beautiful. He must have a partner or... something.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a second before he reeled in his astounding joy that this man just did the work for him, “That sounds great, actually." he grinned, his eyes brightening just a bit more. “May I… carry one for you?” he asked, allowing Aziraphale to hand off one of the now dampened shopping bags to him. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fast Forward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One year later, Christmas Eve.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale and Crowley had been dating exactly one year and one day , if you counted the night they met, which they both very much decided it counted as a first date. They'd been inseparable ever since that fateful night.</p>
<p><br/>"In my family, we opened one gift on Christmas eve..." Aziraphale said as he eyed up the gifts they'd just arranged under the tree.</p>
<p>
  <em> Their tree.</em>
</p>
<p>They'd both given up their tiny apartments and moved in together six months ago. Things moved quickly but it just seemed so natural that there was barely any discussion of it. Crowley found the apartment, mentioned it to Azirphale over dinner one night and by that next month, they were moved in.</p>
<p><br/>"<em>Oh</em>, is that so?" Crowley quirked an eye brow. "Well... in <em>my</em> family, ... we didn't do that." he smirked and pretended to go about his duties of scrolling apps on his phone and kicking his feet up on the sofa. Aziraphale stood and looked at him then the gifts again, knowing Crowley would give in any second.</p>
<p><br/>He was right.</p>
<p><br/>"Okay... <em>ONE</em>!" Crowley blurted out raising one thin finger.</p>
<p>Aziraphale grinned and picked up a red wrapped package for Crowley and plopped down onto the sofa playfully, beside him and set it in his lap. </p>
<p>"This one ...open this one first." he gushed.</p>
<p><br/>Crowley shook it, pretending to try to guess what it was, "Is it.... an assortment of dildos?" he joked.</p>
<p><br/>"Stop it!" the blonde laughed, "That's what you have <em>me</em> for.<em> Open it</em>."</p>
<p><br/>Crowley carefully, painfully so, unfastened the tape on each end, tormenting Aziraphale with his degree of stalling.</p>
<p><br/>"<em>RIP IT OPEN!"</em> Aziraphale demanded with a chuckle.</p>
<p>"Thought you'd want to save the paper." Crowley teased.  He gave the paper one good tug and ripped the face of the present open.</p>
<p><br/>"Knives!" he exclaimed, with wide eyes. He'd taken up cooking the past few weeks and always complained that they didn't have the proper cutlery for slicing and dicing.</p>
<p><br/>"Do you like them?"</p>
<p><br/>"I love them, angel! Now I can make tiny little thin slices of tomatoes and peppers...." he reported, gazing at the many different sizes.</p>
<p><br/>"And cans.... they're not just any knives... they're Ginsu .. they can cut through a can, then slice a tomato paper thin!" Aziraphale announced just like they did on the commercial for them.</p>
<p><br/>Crowley laughed out loud and threw his arms around Aziraphale's neck letting the package of knives lay between them on the sofa. "I love it... thank you, angel." he murmured, closing in for a chaste kiss to his boyfriend's soft lips.  "I'll make us something really great for dinner tomorrow... I have it all planned out. Okay.. now <em>you."</em> he said and crawled off the sofa and onto the floor on his hands and knees.</p>
<p>Aziraphale admired the view in Crowley's dark silky pajamas with stars on them. "Ooo... is <em>that</em> my present?" he cooed suggestively. </p>
<p>Crowley looked over his shoulder, "Later<em>... IF</em> you're good."</p>
<p>Aziraphale held up the package of knives. "I <em>have</em> been. I never liked anyone enough to give them<em> knives</em> before."</p>
<p><br/>Crowley walked back to the sofa on his knees holding a heavy wrapped rectangle and plopped it into Aziraphale's lap, carefully.</p>
<p>"I can use my present tomorrow... you can use <em>this</em> tonight." he said softly and suggestively. </p>
<p><br/>Aziraphale weighed the package in his hand for a moment, pretending to guess anything but a book, which is what it definitely was. "Dildos?"</p>
<p>Crowley gave him a shove, "Open it!" he urged him impatiently.</p>
<p>Aziraphale unwrapped it unceremoniously and read the cover. "The Kama Sutra"  he said and raised both brows high as a big smile crept over his face. "Have I been boring?" he asked with a smile still plastered on his face. Their sex life had been anything but.</p>
<p><br/>"Nooo..." Crowley purred and practically crawled into his lap. "I just saw it and immediately got turned on... it's like ancient porn." he helped him open the book. "I want to try<em> that</em>." he pointed out and grinned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>"Oh...<em> that</em> can be arranged... as well as <em>that....</em> and <em>that."</em> Aziraphale continued to point to pictures, his lips moving closer to Crowley's until they met. "Thank you... or should you be thanking me?" he murmured.</p>
<p><br/>"Later.... I'll thank you <em>later</em>.." he purred and pulled the blonde over him as he fell onto his back on the sofa.</p>
<p>They kissed until breathless, each working the other's pajamas off slowly.</p>
<p>After completing at least three of the positions in the book right there on the sofa, they fell asleep for a little while before Aziraphale finally stirred and woke Crowley.</p>
<p>"I'll turn off the tree. Let's go to bed." he mumbled sleepily.</p>
<p> Aziraphale slowly stumbled to his feet while Crowley wrapped a blanket around his lanky, naked frame and stood up.</p>
<p><br/>"Merry Christmas, "Reindeer". Aziraphale whispered as he embraced Crowley, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. </p>
<p>"Merry Christmas, Angel.... " Crowley smirked at the nickname that Aziraphale had given him a year ago after their first meeting. "Love you." he managed to mumble as he curled into Aziraphale's soft body and they went to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Things Get Complicated</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorry in advance. This one is gonna be a little rough. Remember, we have to tear them apart to bring them back together. It was hard for me to write this. I hope it's not too hard to read.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By March of that new year, Crowley was promoted to <em>assistant</em> to the Assistant Producer of the network he'd interned for the year before. It meant more hours, more responsibility but also more money.</p><p>He and Aziraphale celebrated by going out for dinner to a place much fancier than they could have afforded before. Aziraphale felt guilty for it since he worked for a homeless shelter but Crowley reminded him that there was nothing wrong with splurging a little now and then when they both worked so hard and could afford it.</p><p>"It's not like we do this often... or at all." he smiled and clinked his wine glass with his partner's. He spent a good portion of their night telling his boyfriend all about his new job.</p><p>And his new boss.</p><p>"Mr. Lusifer said he's really impressed with me. He thinks I will be moving up to Assistant Producer in no time at all." he beamed. "If that happens," he took a large pull from his glass and swallowed, "I'll be making twice what I make now! Plus...I'll be traveling a lot.. the network sends the Assistant Producer all over the country.. <em>and over seas</em>!" he explained excitedly, waving his free hand in the air, "With what I make, I can take you along too!"</p><p>Aziraphale smiled and nodded much of the time listening to Crowley's plans. When he mentioned traveling with him, he frowned. "Crowley... you know I can't really just up and leave work ... I mean... maybe once or twice a year... but.... that's all far in the future right? Let's just enjoy now." he smiled that disarming smile that always made Crowley melt.3</p><p>"Sure... you're right. I mean.. that's a long way off anyway." Crowley shrugged. Still, it was exciting to think about. </p><p>But, it wasn't a long way off. Mr. Lusifer, the Executive Producer of HEL-Direct Network was so impressed with Crowley that he made him Assistant Producer by late November of that very year. He took Crowley under his wing and was a mentor to him, and soon after, a friend. Mr. Lusifer invited both he and Aziraphale to dinner at least once a week and took Crowley on short business trips with him to Edinburgh, Rome, and Manchester with the promise of New York by year's end. Aziraphale couldn't get away from work as he too was promoted to head of the shelter. He took his job as seriously as Crowley took his, making less than half of what Crowley made. When Crowley's trip to New York came up, it was just before Christmas of that year and he'd be returning on Christmas Eve, missing they're 2nd anniversary. </p><p>"It's alright love, we'll celebrate when you return! I'll be sure to get our usual take out and have everything ready by the time you walk through the door! I will miss you though." he added a little sadly. </p><p>"Oh, you'll probably be happy enough to curl up with a book and hot chocolate and you won't even think about me!" he smirked and with arms around his partner's waist, pulled him gently against his body. </p><p>"That's NOT true! I always think of you and miss you terribly when you go on these trips." They stood at the door with Crowley's luggage at their feet for some time, kissing and trying not to let it turn too passionate. "Go on now... you'll miss your flight." Aziraphale chided him, breaking the kiss and pulling back a little. "Bring me back something from the Big Apple!" he smiled brightly. </p><p>"You know I will, Angel." he winked. "Love you." </p><p> </p><p>It was July the next year when Crowley had been invited to go on his second trip to New York, this time would be for a full week with his boss and now, his very own assistant, Bea.</p><p>"I really wish you'd go to New York, it's so exciting, angel. You'd really love it." he explained as he packed and Aziraphale sat on the edge of the bed and watched him. "Last time, Sam, took me to this club... "</p><p>"Sam?" Aziraphale repeated with furrowed brow.</p><p>"Mr. Lusifer..." Crowley said as he rolled his eyes as he tossed his swim trunks into the case, "just... unbelievable. It was amazing!" he said excitedly.</p><p>"Oh. Yes. I'd forgotten you were on a first name basis with him now...and yes, you told me about that club when you came home last time. I wish I could go too, but... the shelter is so..."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, I know... it's busy. It's always going to be busy, angel. There's never going to be a shortage of homeless people or people looking for a hand out."</p><p>"Crowley!" he snapped, furrowed his brow. This wasn't the first time Crowley had passive aggressively put his work down or the people they helped. "Some can't <em>help</em> it. Believe me, most of them would rather have a full time job and support themselves and their families,.. it's not like they<em> want</em> to live at shelter... it's.."</p><p>"Then it's up to them to get a job and get on with it." Crowley remarked as he nonchalantly closed his suitcase.</p><p>Aziraphale frowned and stood up. He took Crowely's case to the front door of their little apartment. They were on the second floor over a Chinese Restaurant. "Do you want me to carry it down for you?" he asked, his voice wrought with sadness.</p><p>Crowley pursed his lips and smiled tightly. "Don't be silly. I've got it. Come on now... " he put his hand on Aziraphale's chest and moved in close. "It's only seven days." He trailed his fingers up his partner's chest and around his neck. "Give us a kiss." he purred.</p><p>Aziraphale closed the gap between them and left several soft, half hearted kisses on Crowley's thin lips. When he pulled away, he looked into eyes warily. "Miss me?"</p><p>Crowley nodded. "Always." he paused a moment. "Tell you what,... you get some time off from that place and we'll plan a trip there ourselves. Just us. We'll stay at the Four Seasons or Park Terrace or wherever you want. Why don't you start planning it now and we'll talk about it when I get home. Okay? I'll facetime you when I get settled in tonight." </p><p>One more chaste kiss and Aziraphale was left standing alone, again, at their front door starring after for a moment where Crowley had just been. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>               ***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next several months brought more of the same. When Crowley wasn't working or traveling, he wasn't the same. He was distracted and distant even when he was home. Aziraphale took on more hours at the shelter too, if only to fill in the gaps when Crowley wasn't there. When he couldn't work, he went out with Michael and Gabriel, their best friends. He went from making excuses for Crowley not joining them to out right confiding to them that he feared how Crowley's absence and changes to his personality worried him and were coming between them. They fought more often, and not over trivial things like toothpaste and who's turn it was to get groceries, but about real things. </p><p>"He barely speaks when he's at home. He's always working, always on the phone. When he does talk to me it's.... I don't know, his tone is different." he confessed to Michael over drinks one night in their favorite pub. "He's so .... curt." he said shaking his head, "Like I'm a bother to him." He looked down at the bar and fiddled with his coaster under his pint of ale and muttered softly, "We havn't been.... <em>intimate</em> in weeks. He's ... too tired or ... just doesn't even come to bed and falls asleep on the sofa. By the time I wake up he's already gone sometimes." </p><p>"I'm sure this is just a faze.... it's all new to him. He'll settle into the job soon and everything will be back to normal." Michael tried, but Aziraphale knew different. It wasn't just the way he spoke to him or the way he didn't look at him kindly with soft golden eyes anymore. Crowley was growing more and more hard edged. He never asked Aziraphale about his work. When he did talk to him, it was about his own work and Sam and Bea and everyone at the network and the shows they were working on. Aziraphale had little interest in it but he listened anyway, knowing it was important to Crowley. </p><p>"Michael," he said lowly, shifting in his stool to turn more towards his friend, "Do you think he's.... " Aziraphale paused, almost unable to say it, "well... do you think there's someone else?" </p><p>Their once vigorous sex life had all but diminished. They fell into a routine and were going through the motions. The last time had been three weeks ago and it was lack luster and seemed as though Crowley was just doing it to appease Aziraphale. </p><p>"Oh... no, Zira! I don't think that's what's going on here. He adores you!" Michael insisted. </p><p>Tears welled in Aziraphale's eyes and he kept his head lowered and spoke softly. "The last time we were... " he waved his hand slightly in front of himself, "...you know.. together... he was so... I don't know. Just ... not himself. Seemed like he just wanted to get it over with and ..." He brought his hand to his lips and held back a sob. "Oh bother.. I shouldn't be telling you all this.." </p><p>"Nonsense." Michael said putting a hand on his back reassuringly, "you can tell me anything, you know that. I've known you longer than I've known anyone... if it weren't for you, I'd not have met Gabe." </p><p>"I know.. it's just..." Aziraphale nodded and used a cocktail napkin to wipe his eyes dry. "...maybe he's just... not attracted to me anymore. He's meeting so many new people and god only knows what he gets up to in the states when he's in New York or anywhere. He doesn't even call me some nights when he's away. Probably has someone in every city he stays in or ... hooks up with .." he stopped, unable to continue. </p><p>Michael rubbed Aziraphale's back trying to soothe him. "Come on now Zira... I'm sure it's not that. Do you want Gabriel to talk to him.. I mean, without saying too much,.. just get a read on what's going on?" </p><p>Aziraphale sighed, choking back another sob. "I don't know... I just... I love him so much. I just keep hoping it's like you said and he'll get back to normal. I need to talk to him but it's so hard to find a good time... a good time for him, that is."</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Do you want to try something new from the book?" he asked one warm night in October. Having had a rare dinner together at home that night, things were seemingly going well, Aziraphale tried his luck. Crowley was sitting at his little desk in the bedroom, lap top opened to work related things and Aziraphale gently wrapped his arms around his chest and kissed his neck. "We can try page forty seven..." he purred in his ear.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley didn't take his eyes off the screen or stop typing. "Umm.... maybe ..." he replied distantly, clearly not listening to what Aziraphale suggested. "Could you get me that file I left on the counter in the kitchen?" he asked absently.</p><p>Aziraphale backed away slowly then walked the short distance to the kitchen, returned and  handed him the file as he watched Crowley continue to type. "Thanks.. just leave it there." he replied without looking up.</p><p>Aziraphale stared at him sadly for a moment and placed the file on the desk beside him. </p><p>"My dear, can we talk?" Aziraphale finally asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside the desk.</p><p>Crowley glanced over, "Hm? Sure....just let me.... finish... this ... one thing..." he trailed off as he continued to type.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale patiently waited. A full two minutes later, Crowley stopped and pointedly looked at him. "Okay.. what's up?"</p><p>Aziraphale ran his hand through his hair and swallowed. It was odd to have Crowley's attention and if he didn't speak quickly, he may loose it. Crowley's eye contact was so seldom anymore that it was actually giving him some anxiety.  "Are we ... okay?" he asked simply.</p><p>Crowley raised his brows. "Are we okay?" He parroted, then shrugged, now glancing back at his laptop screen before looking back at his partner. "Yeah, we're fine. Our bills are paid, we've got money in the savings... I'd say we're doing ..."</p><p>"<em>Not financially</em>... Crowley... I mean...<em> us</em>." Aziraphale for once interrupted him. "Are <em>we</em> okay? You barely talk to me when you<em> are</em> home, when you <em>do</em> it's .... you're very <em>clipped</em> with me. Have I done something wrong? Are you<em> angry</em> with me?"</p><p>Crowley shook his head. "No... I'm not mad at you. Don't be ridiculous." he waved his hand towards him. "Look... I have to get this finished. Can we do this later?"</p><p>Aziraphale nodded and looked down at his hands. "Sure." He stood and began to leave when a sudden fear gripped him, or was it anger? He really wasn't sure anymore. "NO!" he said abruptly. </p><p>"Wot?" Crowley looked up, a little stunned. </p><p>"No, we can't do this later. I need to talk to you and you never have time for me. Crowley, it's never a good time and you always put me off... I need to know what's going on!" He got the whole thing out quickly and in one breath, his heart racing a bit. Are you seeing someone else?"  </p><p>Crowley looked at him as though he were completely mad and the hesitation in his answer didn't feel at all reassuring. He hadn't prepared for an answer that he most certainly didn't want to hear. </p><p> </p><p>"Aziraphale... what the <em>hell</em> are you on about? <em>No</em>! I'm not cheating on you but thanks for the vote of confidence in me." he snarled. "When exactly do you think I'd have time to sleep with anyone else? I'm at work nearly every day, and you see me every night that I'm not traveling, <em>FOR WORK</em>! I'm trying to do my best, to get ahead and make enough money so that we can move out of this hell-hole! God knows we can't do it with your income!" He was yelling now and he hadn't meant to say that last thing he said out loud. He immediately regretted it when he saw the pained look on Aziraphale's face. This was usually about the time that Aziraphale turned and stormed off. </p><p>Aziraphale's eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, aghast. It felt like a slap across the face as well as a punch to his gut. He wanted to turn and run. He wanted to burst into tears but there had been enough of that already. So many arguments lately and no, not this time. Something in him surged up and he was angry, just as angry as Crowley seemed to be. He gritted his teeth for a moment and clenched his fists at his sides, "<em>Firstly</em>,... this <em>hell-hole</em> as you put it has been our home, and a happy one at that for nearly two years! There's not a corner of this flat that doesn't bring some happy memory to me and the time we've spent here. Secondly, your <em>work</em>... your work is what has come between us these past several months. Yes, you're here every night that your not working or that you're not traveling but that's just it, isn't it... you travel for a week at a time and some nights, you don't even call me. The way you've been treating me lately, like some annoying houseguest or flat mate, what was I supposed to think? For all I know, you could very well be sleeping with someone else because you're sure as hell not sleeping with me! Or is it that you're just not attracted to me any longer? Just tell me, Crowley!" </p><p> </p><p>Crowley's shoulders fell and he sighed. Suddenly he saw what Aziraphale's fears were based on. "Angel... stop it. Of course I'm attracted to you." he moved in towards him and raised his hand to his cheek. "I love you...you're perfect and gorgeous and sweet and ...patient and I think I don't deserve you half the time." he said softly. "I"m sorry... I'm a an arsehole. I was angry and I really didn't mean what I said about your work. I know you work hard, too hard for them and they don't deserve you either." </p><p>Aziraphale's expression softened. It always did when Crowley was like this. "I love what I do, Crowley... but I love you more. I just feel like I'm losing you and I don't know what to do. I feel like you're shutting me out or... pushing me away. You're so distracted when you're with me and I feel that you don't need me anymore... or want me." </p><p>Crowley nuzzled his face into the crook of Aziraphale's neck and held him close. "I want you... I always want you. That's never the issue." he promised. "I just want to get to a point at work where I feel more secure... I want to make enough to take care of you and lavish you with all you deserve. I nicer home... our own house, maybe? " </p><p>"I don't need all that Crowley." Aziraphale insisted, "I've never asked for any of that. I just want you. I love our simple life. Perhaps it's you that needs more." he answered, sounding a little hurt that maybe he wasn't enough. </p><p>"I know angel,... " Crowley said, pulling back a little to look into his eyes, "... I do want more.. but not because I'm not perfectly happy with you. You're the center of my world... you're mostly why I want to do well. Why can't I have both? You and corporate success?" </p><p>Aziraphale sighed. It wasn't that Crowely was wrong to want more and he certainly couldn't criticize him for that nor did he ever want to squash his dreams. He just wanted to feel more like he was important to Crowley, not just hear it. "You can... as long as you're not shutting me out while you go after that success.... but know that I think you're already a huge success." <br/><br/></p><p>The make-up sex that night almost made up for the weeks that Aziraphale felt cast aside and lonely. It gave him hope that Crowley finally understood his side of things and he felt more comfortable now that he had his boyfriend's affections and attention. </p><p>Things weren't perfect again after that night but they had definitely improved. Crowley tried to make more time to listen to Aziraphale's concerns, they had dinner together every night that he wasn't traveling out of town, and on those nights, they face-timed, even leading to facetime sex a few times. Aziraphale still had his concerns at times. Not that Crowely was cheating, but that he was still putting work first before him. It didn't happen as often so he tried not to complain. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>"We're having dinner with Michael and Gabriel on Christmas Eve... at their place. I told them we'd be there by seven. That okay?" Aziraphale asked as he washed the dinner dishes.</p><p>"Sure... sounds good." Crowley answered as sat at the kitchen table and pulled his phone out to check his Saturday schedule. He wasn't surprised. They always spent the holidays with their friends. </p><p>"I got them two bottles of that wine they like...and I thought we'd take dessert from the bakery by their house. I ordered a cherry cheesecake."</p><p>Crowley nodded. "Mm..kay." </p><p>"And, I thought we'd get our anniversary take out and eat here instead of going out on Friday. Just like our first year." he continued as he dried his hands on the tea towel and approached Crowley, coming up behind his chair and rubbing his shoulders gently. </p><p>"Sounds fine, love." Crowely answered, still entranced by his phone. When he felt Aziraphale's hands on his shoulders, he melted a little and moaned, lowering his hands holding his phone on to the table. "Oh fuck... that feels so good, angel." </p><p>"Is this all I have to do to get you to put your phone down?" </p><p>"It wouldn't hurt to try." Crowely's head fell forward and he closed his eyes, melting under his strong hands massaging his tensions away. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Christmas Eve, Aziraphale was to meet Crowley at the studio at 5pm and they'd go to Gabriel and Michael's from there. The new show he was working on was going live tonight and he had to be there but could skip out if everything was "<em>running smoothly</em>" by 5:00. Aziraphale stood behind the cameras and watched as Crowley snapped at camera men and charmed the performers into doing his bidding before having words with the head of operations and the director.</p><p><em>"Well</em>, at the end of the day, it's <em>my</em> show, isn't it? So either do it like I want it, or go home and we'll find another in studio director to do it...<em>"</em> he snapped angrily at the woman.</p><p>Aziraphale's expression was despondent, knowing that Crowley wouldn't be in the best mood during dinner tonight after seeing this display. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam Lusifer slapped him on the back and addressed him warmly, "Aziraphale! Good to see you." he announced in his booming voice. "Where have you been hiding yourself, young man? Still volunteering at that uh... "</p><p>"Heaven's Garden Shelter... " Aziraphale intervened, "And yes, but I work there, not volunteer." he answered politely with a smile.</p><p>Lusifer's voice wasn't one to be missed and when he said Aziraphale's name, he had Crowely's attention. He was already on his way over towards them. "Hi angel... I didn't know you got here already." he commented, his tone still sharp but much less so than the way he'd spoken to everyone else in the studio. "Good evening, Sam. Everything here is coming along splendidly!" </p><p>"I'm glad you're here." Crowley's boss interrupted before Aziraphale could say another word. "Crowley, I'd like you and Aziraphale to have dinner with Davina and me tonight. Now, I won't take no for an answer. " he said quickly then leaned in towards Crowley and lowered his voice, " I'd like to talk to you about something important. It's something that will affect both you and Aziraphale's future." he said quickly and gave Crowley a wink. He'd been hinting at promoting Crowley yet again.</p><p>"That's very nice of you but we're..." Aziraphale began.</p><p>"We'd love to!" Crowley blurted out and gave Aziraphale a cautionary glance.</p><p>"Wonderful!" Sam exclaimed and slapped Aziraphale's back again. "I'll have a limo brought to the front... meet you there in say, ... ten minutes?" he confirmed and checked his Rolex. "We have reservations at the Ritz for 6:00." With that, he gave Crowley a pat on the shoulder and left through the heavy double doors into the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>"Crowely..." Aziraphale said evenly, after Sam left, "we're having dinner with Michael and Gabriel,... it's Christmas Eve.. "</p><p>"Yes! It's Christmas Eve, my darling, and I'm about to be given a very big gift by a very important man. Or don't you want me to become Lead Producer on the next big show on HEL- Direct Network?" His eyes were wide and his smile was not one that Aziraphale knew to be authentic. "You don't think I can possibly turn him down, do you? This is<em> important</em>, Aziraphale." </p><p>Azirahphale's expression went blank. This was the last straw. This had been happening much too often but... Christmas Eve? Crowley had broken yet another promise. Over the past several months, the past year if Aziraphale was to be honest with himself, Crowley had increasingly grown colder towards him. He only lit up when Sam Lusifer was involved and even then, it was more about power and money than anything else.</p><p>When Aziraphale and Crowely had met, they were both poor but they were happy. They fell in love and had fun together doing seemingly nothing at all. When he thought about last Christmas Eve or the one before that wherein they'd just met the night before, he couldn't even recognize the person that stood before him anymore as that same person that was thrilled to get Ginsu knives as a gift. He hadn't time, nor desire, to cook at home for over a year. Aziraphale stood there staring at his boyfriend. Crowely was exquisite. Well dressed whereas Aziraphale wore a simple button up shirt with a green jumper and tan slacks. Crowely's shoes were snakeskin and new and very expensive, whereas Aziraphale's were well worn and purchased from the clearance rack at Debenham's. Even Crowley's hair cut was expensive. Now that he stood here, perhaps seeing them for the first time as a couple, they really were completely mis-matched. Aziraphale wondered what they even had in common any longer.</p><p>Understandably, Crowley had to keep up appearances for his position but it was more than that. Crowley himself had changed. He'd said too many unfavorable things about Aziraphale's work, wondering why he bothered to work there at all when he was <em>'far too handsome and too smart to be working for pennies'</em>, but it was never about the money for Azirphale. He loved what he did. He loved helping people and he was good at it. He went home at the end of the day sometimes frustrated but sometimes feeling like he made a real difference in someone's life. Crowley had pulled away from not just Aziraphale but their friends, too. It seemed like they just weren't good enough to hang out with anymore. Beer at the pub was no longer suitable when he could have Manhattans at The Savoy with his new pretentious friends and colleagues. Crowley enjoyed <em>things</em> and <em>places</em> and<em> work</em> but he didn't enjoy his life... at least not with Aziraphale.</p><p>Not anymore, it seemed. </p><p>Crowley was looking over Aziraphale's clothes, a weird grimace on his face. "Angel, why don't you go visit the costume department, tell them I said so, and have them give you a proper jacket. And shoes." he added when he looked down at his feet. "And a tie." </p><p>Aziraphale swallowed, nearly choking on the words he was about to say.</p><p>"Crowley", he said softly, barely audible over the noise in the studio, ".. maybe... maybe we should separate for a little while." He couldn't even believe the words were coming out of his mouth. He'd thought about it... somewhere in the back of his mind, for many months but he'd never actually said the words aloud and now that he was, his heart was breaking apart in his chest. He certainly never thought it would be on Christmas eve that he'd be saying these words, if at all.</p><p>Crowley's eyes met his again and he stared for a long moment. "Is that what you want?" he asked, but it sounded more like a statement than a question. As if he'd been thinking it himself as well and was content to let Aziraphale bring it up, though he was surprised he had.</p><p>"No.. it's <em>not</em> but... I think it might be best for awhile. Until you're less busy with work and ... things settle down." Aziraphale's voice was deep and soft but still on the verge of cracking. There was a lump in his throat that he managed to hold back but the tears beginning to well in his eyes gave him away. This was the most painful thing he'd ever done and the fact that Crowely wasn't trying to protest, at all, hurt all the more.  </p><p>"Well... " Crowley sighed, "things have been pretty crazy." he nodded in agreement, all too easily. "Listen... how about you go to Gabe and Michaels' and we'll talk about this tonight... I"ll maybe stop by their place on my way home.. okay?" he offered, half heartedly. Not a trace of concern could be heard in his voice.</p><p><em><strong>"Hey... boss-man?"</strong></em> a cameraman yelled in Crowley's direction.</p><p>Crowely's head snapped around to the man's direction and glared, "<em>Most</em> people around here call me Sir, or at the very least, Mr. Crowely!" he snarled.</p><p>"I'm sorry sir.. er... <em>Mr. Crowley</em>.. but I'm new here... I just wanted to know where you'd like camera four..."</p><p>"I want <em>camera four</em> in <em>camera four's</em> position!" Crowley snapped, pointing towards the floor to where it was clearly marked and walking towards this apparent idiot of a man that who- knows- who hired. "Hang on.." he said to Aziraphale in the same exact voice he just used on the cameraman and held his index finger up to him to stay put. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale backed away as he watched Crowley berate the worker. He turned to leave through the double doors into the hallway, head low and heart breaking as he could still hear Crowley's voice above all the chatter in the studio. He turned back one last time, still able to see his love through the sea of people that were pacing about in the excitement and expectation of the live show.</p><p>"Crowley" he said softly, "Merry Christmas." he all but whispered just as the heavy doors shut.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Your comments are much appreciated. Really. Good or bad. I'll sort it out. :)</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Old Friends Die Hard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prepare for a nine year fast forward. I always tend to hate when that happens in fics but there's not much to say other than that fateful Christmas Eve was their break up. You can fill in that time however you'd like. Maybe Crowley showed up late at their friend's house for drinks after dinner with his boss and boss's wife, or maybe he just came home late and crawled into bed beside Aziraphale and nothing was said til the following day, wherein they decided to end their three year relationship. Be proud of Aziraphale for his self care in not putting up with a partner that couldn't respect him or show him the love that he needed and deserved. Also, try not to hate Crowley too much. He loves Aziraphale, and he'll soon realize how much and how painful and bitter his life will be without him. He's on a trajectory of success at work, and complete and utter failure at balancing that with a healthy relationship. Things will get better but they have to go through some stuff.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p> </p><p>It had been 9 years since their break up.</p><p>At 36 years old, Crowley was the youngest Executive Producer in the history of the Network. It was the last act of promotion that his late boss, Sam Lusifer, had appointed.</p><p>Crowley was now<em> the</em> top Executive Producer of eight of the top rated shows on HEL-Direct Network, soon to be ten by the beginning of next season should he have anything to say about it, and the most feared man within their high-rise walls.</p><p>It was the day before Christmas Eve and he sat at the head of a table full of writers, directors, producers and one very irritating woman from censorship regulations... and she was a pill. Crowley would have fired her a thousands times already but he had no say in that matter, and it gnawed him.</p><p>They were engaged in viewing the latest push for an advertisement for their latest series, a murder/drama though the advertisement read more like an action series and Crowley was having none of it. He screamed and berated everyone in the room from the producer down to the assistant writer until everyone was literally trembling. He demanded that the commercial be reshot, <em>'immediately...as in yesterday! Just DO BETTER!:</em>'</p><p>One writer, a new guy, by the name of Hastur, came up to him after the meeting and made a suggestion. "Mr Crowley...." he began. Crowley turned to look at him with furrowed brow and bewilderment. How dare this minion approach him. "...if you don't mind me saying so, sir, I think that they were going for more of an action packed sort of feel to the spot to get the younger crowd motivated into ..."</p><p>"Sssorry... what was your name?" Crowley sneered.</p><p>"Gordon... sir... Gordon Hastur.." the man said as he pushed the rim of his glasses up with his index finger.</p><p>"Well...<em> Gordon</em>...  Gordon<em> Hassssstur</em>..." Crowley scoffed, "I think you're on to something there." he nodded, feigning agreement. "I never thought of it like that... let me think about this and I'll get back to you within ... let's say... five minutes." he smiled, that large, fake smile he'd become a master at.</p><p>"Well, thank you sir... " he nodded. "... you know.. people told me that you were a little... <em>scary</em>,..." he laughed nervously, "..but I think they were wrong about you. You're<em> very</em> approachable ... and.. well, I really look forward to working more with you, Mr. Crowley."</p><p>Crowley raised a brow and nodded, his expression somewhere between bemused and amused. "Oh, as do I, Gordon.. as do I." he feigned sincerity as he lead Gordon to the doors, patting his shoulder condescendingly.</p><p>"Merry Christmas , Mr. Crowley." he gushed, pausing at the threshold of the doors and turning to shake Crowley's un-offered hand. </p><p>"Oh, to <em>you</em> as well.. Gordon.<em>.Merry Christmas!</em> " Crowley jeered, and purposely walked the young man out of his office until they reached the desk of Tracey, Crowley's secretary. She smiled at the young writer having met him earlier that morning. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Hastur." she cooed.</p><p>"Miss Tracey.." Crowley addressed her as he watched Hastur walk away. "Call security and have Mr. Hastur escorted out of the building... have his locks changed and desk cleared out before lunch." he ordered as he glanced at his Rolex. "By the way, remind me by 11:30 about my lunch meeting." </p><p>Tracey's mouth dropped open. "You're <em>firing</em> him? But... it's <em>Christmas</em>!" she hissed.</p><p>"<em>Shit</em>.. that's right." he gasped, "Call accounting and have his Christmas bonus cancelled." he said flippantly. "Then come into my office with that list of ...whoever ... I need to send corporate gifts to." then turned and went back into his office and slammed the door.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>At noon, Aziraphale was scrambling to be sure that the semi-frozen turkeys that hadn't arrived as they should have the day before, were getting unloaded and prepped in the kitchen as soon as humanly possible for the dinner at the shelter on Christmas Day. Thank God for all of the enthusiastic volunteers. He doesn't know what he'd do without them.</p><p>After nine years, he was content with his position at the Shelter and was pleased that the charity had had it's best year yet in donations, however they still scraped by as the need for the shelter only grew.</p><p>Most nights, he stayed late. Tonight looked as though it would be no exception. There was much to do but he took a much needed break and went for a quick snack at the pub with Michael.</p><p>"Why don't you come over tomorrow night and have dinner with us." Michael suggested. "We'll get some wine... some cheeseca..." but stopped short of mentioning the cherry cheesecakes from Cuppacake Bakery. Why after so many years it had popped into his head but as soon as he began to say it, he remembered it was, had been, Crowley's favorite. "One of those cheese platters... with the fruit and .."</p><p>"It's okay, Michael.. " Aziraphale chuckled sadly, "I've had cheesecake in the last nine years... I'll have it again."</p><p>Truth was, he hadn't had cherry cheesecake. It in fact<em> did</em> remind him of Crowley. It had been years since Crowley moved out and after the first two years, he claimed he was over it and even dated some people. The closest he got to a serious relationship again was four years ago, with Raphael, a gorgeous redhead that volunteered at the shelter. He and Aziraphale had much in common but it fell apart after eight months. Raphael just couldn't keep competing the the <em>'ghost of Crowley.'</em></p><p>"Yeah... tomorrow night sounds great. Thanks." he agreed. "How's my little Muriel doing? I have something for her." he smiled. Michael and Gabe had the cutest little dark haired girl with big brown eyes that they had adopted at birth. She was five years old now. She'd been born a month early and resulted in several complications to her little body but after lots of therapy and trips to specialists, she had been slowly improving.</p><p>Michael downed the last of his drink before he answered. "She's well... she has to go back to that specialist in a week to see if she's a candidate for surgery once her bones grow a little more... but you know, she's always in such high spirits. She's quite the little character... always has the doctors and nurses fawning over her." he smiled.</p><p>Azirphale chuckled, "I know all too well of her charms." Which was exactly why as her godfather, he spoiled her rotten and bought her gifts becoming a princess. He also did what he could to help with her medical bills, of which there were many. He didn't mind. She was all he had besides Gabe and Michael. They were his family. "I've gotta get back to the shelter... those turkeys should be baking by now." He gave Michael a quick hug and wished him a good night. "I have a feeling it's going to be a very late night if we're going to have a dinner for three hundred people by tomorrow afternoon."</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Crowley attended no less than five meetings that day and then had to put in an appearance at a benefit for the museum, but not before telling Tracey  that she had to work late because he would be be back by 7:00. She stayed until 7:30 before leaving a note for him that she had to get home to her elderly neighbor to give him his medication that he needed and bring him dinner but would be in all the earlier the next day if need be. Crowley arrived back at his office at 8:15pm, aggravated as usual that Tracey wasn't there. "No one understands what it means to work around here... " he muttered as he made himself a drink at the bar in his office. He was still muttering complaints to himself when there was a knock at the door.</p><p>"Finally!" he announced loudly, "Entre'...I'm so glad you came to your senses Miss Tracey... I have so much.." but he was cut off by an even louder knock that practically shook the walls. Crowley nearly dropped his drink. "What the fu..." then another enormous knock, and a rumble and flash of bright light that broke through the heavy oak doors of his office with a thunderous crash and set him back on his ass behind his desk. Huge shards of the doors flew through the room and ricocheted off the wall behind him, causing years worth of awards on the shelves and the television monitor to come crashing to the floor.</p><p>Slowly, as the dust and debris and smoke cleared, he got to his knees and peered over the desk as he opened a top drawer with his right hand and pulled out a handgun he kept there for just such an occasion, though he knew not what the occasion was. He pointed it at the cloud of dust that hung in the middle of the room. "I'm heavily armed... I called security!" he shouted at ... the cloud.</p><p>"If you're heavily armed, why do you need security, Anthony?" came a voice through the dust ...<em> a familiar voice.</em></p><p>Crowley slowly stood, pointing the shaking gun at the apparition before him. As the cloud settled around him, he could see a full, three dimensional image, as grotesque as it was. </p><p>Crowley swallowed hard as he recognized the persona before him. "Lusifer?" he whispered. "Sam?"</p><p>"And here I thought you'd forgotten me..." the rotting corpse gurgled. He cleared his throat and turned back towards the bar. "Mind if I .... cleanse my pallet?" he asked as he picked up a bottle of scotch and poured it into a glass. Large, heavy chains that were attached to his wrists and waist and leading down to attach to his ankles clanked and jangled on the floor and against the bar. </p><p>Crowley was shaking, absolutely terrified but goddammit if he was going to let some nightmare, for that's obviously what this was, have any say in the matter. He must have passed out in his office and this was just some nightmare brought on by something he ate or drank. yes, probably that cheap champagne he had at the museum,  so why not make the most of it? He shot the gun at the back of the dusty figure and unloaded the entire magazine into it, all while screaming profanities at the top of his lungs. "Bugger off! *<em>a shot</em>* Fuck you! *<em>a shot</em>* Piss off wanker! *a <em>shot*</em> "BAM!" *<em>a shot</em>* "BOOM!" *<em>a shot</em>* "KABLAMMMM!" he screamed over the last shot. </p><p>The figure failed to recognize it's fatal bullet holes it was now riddled with and casually turned and lifted the glass of scotch to toast Crowley. "I don't mind the extra holes, but I must insist you're kinder to this scotch, Crowley.. it's rather old." he reminded him as he held up the now smashed glass bottle that one of the bullets managed to hit instead of his rotted and dusty old corpse. </p><p>He downed the drink and it immediately made it's way through the open holes in his body and spilled to the floor as Crowley gaped.</p><p>With a smack of his dusty lips, Lusifer put the glass down on the bar. "I miss that the most of all... that and the women.... but you never were one for the the ladies, were you, Crowley?" he scoffed.</p><p>"W-what are you.... you're.... you're ... d...d... dead." he stuttered slowly.</p><p>"Yup, five years, ..  who knew that you could have a heart attack doing <em>that,</em> hm?"</p><p>"Has it been that long?" Crowley mocked, "I would have guessed....<em> three</em>... tops." He looked at the corpse figure walking closer to him and backed away til his back hit the wall where he'd been standing behind his desk. "Okay.. I'll wake up now if you don't mind."</p><p>"Wake up?" Lusifer barked, "My boy, you're nothing but awake. I'm as real in front of you as yourself. Like it? Because this will be you in a few years.... " he asked holding his rotting arms out for Crowley to examine closer.</p><p><strong>"BULLSHIT</strong>!" Crowely barked. "You're not <em>real...</em> you're a nightmare... brought on by ... by sour caviar or ... cheap Korbel! By <em>stress</em>! The stress of this fucking live show and these insipid writers and..."</p><p>"<strong>SILENCE!"</strong> howled the ghost and all at once he was inches from him and grabbed Crowley's wrist. The latter almost gagged at the stench of his phantom boss. This was one very goddamn vivid nightmare.</p><p>"I was once where you are now... a leader, feared by my underlings, adored by them .. I had it all .. and I treated people like garbage. I wasted my life!" Lusifer lamented.</p><p>"Wasted?" Crowley proclaimed. "You had power... money... you were a phenomenal success in this business!"</p><p>"People.... <em>mankind.</em>.. should have been my business! Charity, compassion, <em>mercy</em>!  I was good to you because I saw what I could get out of you... you made me <em>millions</em>. The more successful I let you become, the more money I made, the more power I had.  I cared little for anyone,<em> except myself</em>. Now, in death, I am trapped to watch as you and so many other's like us make the same mistakes. I could have had a woman that loved me... I could have been happy with her and with my life but I always had to have more. You, the same. You <em>had</em> someone that adored you... he was <em>good</em> to you, and he was good to <em>all</em>. You tossed him away like a used rag because he didn't suit your desires for fame, and power and money. <em>Now</em> look at you." Lusifer growled. "<em>Alone</em>. Pitiful. Wasting your life as <em>I</em> did."</p><p>"I'm alone because I <em>choose</em> to be!" Crowley hissed. "People <em>drag</em> you down.. <em>hold</em> you back... <em>you</em> told me that!"</p><p>"Don't you understand, Anthony!" Lusifer barked and shook Crowley.  Parts of his body were falling away to the floor like bits of rotting garbage as he moved. Crowley could hear Lusifer's brittle bones cracking and breaking away and it sounded as putrid as the corpse smelled. "I'm here to warn you! You still have <em>time</em>! You can change .... you dont' have to end up like me, burdened with these chains... each link forged in a life wherein greed and lust and power consumed me!"</p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes and tried to yank himself away, tearing the apparition's fingers with him which stayed clenched around his wrist. He screamed and shook them off. <strong>"I'm quite fine, <em>thank you</em>, in the life I've chosen! Now I'd like to wake up! WAKE UP!"</strong> he screamed.</p><p>The ghoul howled and shook the walls around him to which Crowley again, fell back on his ass into the broken glass and metal on the floor. Crowley hovered over him and lifted his body from the ground using some external power until he was hoovering inches off the ground. Crowley gaped but was unable to scream for fear itself. "You will be visited by three ghosts... " Lusifer howled. Crowley's mouth moved but not a sound could come out as he defied gravity, hovering over his desk with the rotting apparition. "...the first will appear to you tomorrow... at noon. You can still be saved, Crowley!" and then abruptly dropped him to the floor again. Crowley's eyes shut and teeth clenched at the pain of hitting the floor, his legs folding under him until he had to brace himself with his hands onto the bits of glass and wood underneath him. He winced and slowly opened his eyes, heart racing and breath ragged with the overwhelming fear and pain, his hands and probably knees bleeding.</p><p>When he opened his eyes, nothing. The apparition was gone. The broken glass and metal, all gone. He slowly sat up, looking around the room to find it completely as it was. The doors were still on their hinges and the scotch and glasses back on the bar, untouched. He carefully opened the top drawer of the desk to find the gun, still loaded and his hands clean of any blood, but still visibly shaking. </p><p>He heard a beeping sound, and looked to the phone on his desk, dialing itself as he watched. It was on speaker and the voice he heard after two rings was Aziraphale's.</p><p>"Helloooo... I'm afraid you've found me not at home..." the answering machine began.</p><p>"Aziraphale... Aziraphale!" Crowley grabbed the phone and gasped into the receiver. Aziraphale's voice kept talking as if he couldn't hear him. "Angel... it's me.. "</p><p>"....so please do leave a message after the beep." Aziraphale's voice ended and then a long beep.</p><p>Crowley huffed, "A-A-Aziraphale.... it's me... it's Crowley. S-Something ... has happened and ... I ..." he looked around the untouched room wondering just what had happened. It must have been a dream after all, but it had been so real. "... I mean, I don't know that anything happened but.. if you get this message, just.. " he swallowed hard, " call me as soon as you can." the panic in his voice evident as he rushed out the words, hands still shaking. "Call me at 404-0666. Okay? No, I mean...you don't have to. It's fine. I'm fine. yeah just... forget it, bye." He slammed the receiver down and picked up his drink and shot it back in one gulp. He checked his Rolex, and saw through teary eyes the blurred hands of his watch. 11:59pm. He must have fallen asleep. Hours had passed so he must have fallen asleep.  Wiping the wetness from his eyes and regaining his breath, he curled up on the leather sofa. "It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream. It's nothing." he tried to tell himself. But, the phone. How did the phone dial itself? Why did it call Aziraphale? What had he done? He left him a rambling message. He'd have to find a way to explain that should Aziraphale actually call back but.. he wouldn't. Crowley convinced himself, he wouldn't.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Sight for Sore Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley's frightful night is in the past, and he needs to get on with the day at hand, but last night's visions left him with a hangover the likes of which he's never known.<br/>He's also about to get the surprise of his life after nine long years.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>***</p><p>"Mr. Crowley"</p><p>Tracey stood over the leather sofa in Crowley's office and looked down at him, her hands full of messages.</p><p>"Mr. Crowley?" she repeated.</p><p>Crowley's eyes opened, only slightly, and he moaned, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light of day.</p><p>"Mr. Crowley.... did you sleep here all night? I've been trying to reach you.." she looked around for his cell phone. "...there it is."  She stepped quickly to the desk and picked up the beeping, buzzing device. "You have 23 messages. Most of them me, I'll bet." She handed him the phone as he sat up slowly, holding his head and wincing. "...and there's these... " she handed him the paper messages. He glared at her.</p><p>"Just leave them, Tracey." he scowled and rubbed his temples his eyes squeezed shut.</p><p>"Mr. Hopkins is looking for you...  and they need you on the set as soon as..."</p><p>"WHAT?" Crowley snapped his eyes open and sat up, then stood up. "Where? <em>When</em>?"</p><p>"He wants to have lunch with you at noon... but you know him, that means if you're not there by 11:30 you're late."</p><p>Crowley checked his Rolex as he straightened his hair with his hand. "What time is it now... dammit! It's 8:30?!" he whined. "Why did you let me sleep ... dammit, dammit, <em>dammit</em>... " he growled as he paced around the room shrugging off his suit, yanking at his already loosened tie and unbuttoning his shirt.</p><p>"I didn't know you were..." Tracey began to explain but there was no sense in trying to speak. Crowley was frantically muttering orders to her to get his fresh suit from the closet.</p><p>"Coffee... black... now!" he growled as he tore his shirt off. "I'm  going to shower, leave my suit out...and coffee!" he barked as he went to his private bathroom inside his office, slamming the door behind him. </p><p>Crowley was a big deal at Hell-Direct, but there were those above him. Two to be exact. One was Bea Elizib, an entitled, self-absorbed, smart-ass playboi that unfortunately, though they were all those things, they were smart, too. They knew their stuff and Crowley <em>loathed</em> them. Fortunately, they weren't around much, always jet setting and working from all over the world, mostly from their private jet. They only actually attended two Executive Meetings in person per year. For that, Crowley was pleased.</p><p>Then there was Mr. Gaiman. The man they <em>all</em> feared. He was CEO and owned fifty one percent of the Network. This meant he could hire and fire on a whim and he often did. Luckily for Crowley, Gaiman was fond of him. Not so fond though that he wouldn't replace him if he thought that Crowley wasn't up to the task of his position, like for instance executive producer of a live network show that was going to go on the air in no less than eleven and a half hours from now. The fact that he was calling Crowley to lunch on such an important day was ....<em> troubling</em>.</p><p>Tracey had put coffee on his desk next to the stack of messages, answering questions while still trying to fit in the delivery of what she deemed to be important messages that had come into the office. He'd rushed through a shower and was now standing behind a dressing screen and hurriedly putting on fresh clothes that he kept on hand at the office. </p><p>"Where are we having lunch?" Crowley asked hurriedly as he tucked his fresh shirt into his trousers.</p><p>"Ritz." she answered, "where else? I'll have a car waiting for you by 11:15 but they need you on set. There's ... some issues." she said lowly, casting her eyes down.</p><p>"Issues?" Crowley repeated as he froze. "What ... <em>issues</em>?"</p><p>"I think it's best you see for yourself... " she answered as she held out a glass of water and some aspirin for him.</p><p>He threw his head back as he swallowed the pills then rushed into the bathroom to wet his hands and smooth his hair back. She managed to get most of the messages out during the time in which he brushed his teeth.</p><p>"And you need to call back Rogers... and Smith has called twice... and ... oh, and there's three messages from someone named Az-."</p><p>"I don't  have time for that now Tracey!" he snapped, spitting into the sink, cutting her off mid sentence having not even registered the name she almost said. </p><p>He shoved his arms into the newly pressed jacket she held up for him and then fixed his tie as best he could. He'd deal with that on the elevator.</p><p> He stopped at the bar and threw down a shot of Russian vodka then picked up his coffee and proceeded to the hallway. "I'm going to the set. Hold my calls."</p><p>Shoving his cell phone into his pocket and racing out to the elevator he hadn't even had time to think about last night. He used the mirrored walls of the elevator to tie his tie and button his jacket, placing his coffee cup on the floor between his feet. When the elevator doors opened into the main studio, he was rushed upon sight.</p><p>"Mr Crowley!.... Mr. Crowley!  The set is ... Mr. Crowley, I'm from costumes and I need you to... Mr. Crowley, this scene isn't getting the right light on .... Mr. Crowley, could you sign off on these please... "</p><p>In his haste to get out of the elevator, he kicked over his coffee cup. "FUCK!" he growled. "ENOUGH!" Crowley growled. "You, you and you.. over there..." he pointed , "and you and you.. ten minutes!" he yelled, holding both hands up to indicate ten minutes and to back off. "And get somebody to clean that up and bring me a coffee!"</p><p>He met with each and every individual that was having <em>'issues</em>', and boy, were there issues. Part of the set needed to be completely rebuilt, one of the main actors was loosing his voice, the kids' wore their costumes out into the streets during break and came back covered in jelly donuts and powdered sugar, as well as many other eleventh hour problems that had seemingly come up over night. He was having a heated discussion with a representative from Advocacy for Child Actors by 11:00am. because two of the kids on set were too young to be working more than two hours at a time. </p><p>"They're only nine!" the woman scolded, "You have them here at 7:00 am and not given them time to go to so much as go to the bathroom til 9:30!"</p><p>"Their parents put them here for a reason, did they not?" Crowley argued, "If they could make the kind of money we're paying these little trolls then they wouldn't have to pimp their babies out to a major television network, now would they?" he growled back.</p><p>"Mr. Crowley!" she gasped. "Trolls! Don't you find that a bit harsh? How dare you...."</p><p>Crowley barked orders at passing by actors and cameramen and contractors as he kept berating the woman before him, barely even looking at her. <em>"Harsh</em>? I was holding <em>back</em>!" he barked. "If <em>you</em> and <em>they</em> and their <em>mummies and daddies</em> don't like it then I suggest you....."</p><p>Crowley froze. He froze right there on the spot in mid sentence while the woman just gaped at him in a state of horror at how awful he was.</p><p>Right there before him, across the studio, he saw him. Like a haloed, angelic presence amidst the chaos and people, </p><p>"Aziraphale." he whispered. </p><p>Finally catching sight of one another, they stared at one another from across a crowded room for a moment, trying to look around passing workers and cameras moving  back and forth to obstruct their vision of one another for seconds at a time, but there Aziraphale was. Smiling that smile... and waving.</p><p>"Excuse me.." Crowley said softly, "Pete, do something with her..." he commented flatly to an intern, never losing eye contact with Aziraphale as he shoved the woman aside and made his way towards the blonde at the other end of the room. They met somewhere in the middle.</p><p>"Hi." Aziraphale said with a smile like an angel.</p><p>"Angel...er... Aziraphale." Crowley gasped and suddenly everything from last night came rushing back into his mind and he went pale, .. cold in fact. He swallowed hard and shook himself. "Hello."  He'd not eaten and he was stressed and that shot of vodka didn't help matters at all. His hand grabbed for a nearby pillar and he clutched to it, feeling his knees nearly buckling under him. Suddenly, Aziraphale's hand was on his arm and holding him up. His very strong and very capable hand and it brought Crowley back to the present.</p><p>"Are you quite alright, dear?" he asked, his smile gone replaced with concern.</p><p>"'Ziraphale.. what are you....</p><p>"I tried to call you back but they said you weren't in yet and then I called again and they said you were busy... so I ... just came by hoping that they'd let me in the building.... " he began to explain.</p><p>"I called you." Crowley said as if he was reminding himself of it .</p><p>Aziraphale nodded, staring, taking in how much different Crowley looked but yet the same. He was still beautiful, not that Aziraphale would think he wouldn't be. "You did... you sounded... <em>upset</em>." His hand fell away from Crowley's arm now that he felt the other man was steady.</p><p>Crowley stared too, sensing the loss right away of his angel's hand on his arm.</p><p>"OH.. that... I just...." he shrugged and huffed a laugh.</p><p>There was a moment of complete silence between them as if the entire room stopped and fell quiet, though it had not... not by a long shot. The set was being rebuilt now and men were yelling back and forth to one another for tools, hammers were starting to bang nails back into place as well as electric drills humming through the studio above all the usual loud chatter that was going on between the crew.</p><p>"You look good... great actually." Crowley finally said. </p><p>"So do you... " Aziraphale replied, though he knew Crowley and he did look stressed and a little tired, "you look great." his eyes traveling down Crowley's body quickly and back to his dark amber eyes. </p><p> Crowley's hair was still as short as when he left Aziraphale nine years ago but there still wasn't a trace of silver in it, and his skin looked just as smooth albeit a few more wrinkles. The new lines and wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled only added to his beauty somehow, like little arrows pointing out just how perfect his eyes were.</p><p>He had to just stand there and take it in for a moment before another word.</p><p>"So... what happened last night?" Aziraphale asked and broke the trance.</p><p>"Last night? Oh.. nothing," Crowley shook his head and cast his eyes away a moment, "it was just ... something I ate or .. some bad vodka or .. we really don't know yet."</p><p>"Crowley ..." Aziraphale stopped him, "it's me." he said lowly. "That was the scared Crowley I heard on my answering machine.</p><p>"I'm sorry I called so late. I hope I didn't wake you or.... anyone.... " he hinted, wondering if Aziraphale was living with anyone.</p><p>"No..." he smiled, "I wasn't home actually.. I was still at the shelter. We've been so busy trying to get ready for the Christmas Eve dinner today. I was able to slip out for a little while this morning to ... well, ... I wanted to be sure you were okay.  And no... there is no one else. I'm ... still single." he said rather shyly.</p><p>"Mr Crowley... could you please..." a woman interrupted holding out a clip board with papers on it and a pen in the other hand.</p><p>"Is it not plain to see that I'm engaged in something at the moment?" he snapped at her, his expression changing from enchanted to sinister in a split second.</p><p>"I'm so sorry, Mr. Crowley but.. I really need these signed so that.."</p><p>"Are you<em> deaf</em> or just outright <em>stupid</em>?" he growled at her.</p><p>"Listen..." Aziraphale began, "I'm going to get going... you're busy here. "</p><p>"No, no no... 'Zirapahle.. wait." Crowley gushed. "Just give me a moment..." and turned his attention back to the woman, grabbed the clipboard and scribbled his signature on it quickly in three places. "There... that should suit your needs, yes?" he grumbled at her and shoved her away. He turned back to Aziraphale who by now was frowning seeing that Crowley had indeed changed... for the worse. Even though he still looked at Aziraphale with that same sweetness he'd once known, his edges had become much rougher, his heart, colder. Crowley turned back to him about to say something as the woman walked away. </p><p>Aziraphale sighed curtly, "So ... you didn't mean to call me last night?" he asked, his voice wrought with hopelessness and perhaps a little disappointment if he was to honest.</p><p>Before Crowley could answer, the worker's hammering became rather deafening. He looked over his shoulder, irritated, "Could you <em>please</em>... knock off the goddamned hammering for a minute! <em>Thank</em> you!" he yelled.</p><p> "Well..." Aziraphale reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card, "if it happens again, ... if you need to talk... you can reach me <em>here</em>. I'm hardly ever home."</p><p>Crowley took the card and looked at it, "Heaven's Garden Shelter 404th and 6th Street" he read. Aziraphale hadn't left. He was probably still living in their same little three room apartment over the Chinese food restaurant.  "Still trying to save the world, I see?" he smirked.</p><p>Aziraphale looked around him and nodded in the direction of the woman he'd just sent away, "And you're still trying to rule it." he stated, though there was no venom in his words. Only a very matter of fact tone. Crowley was the powerful man he had strived to always be. His words would nearly be unheard by Crowley since the hammering started up again.</p><p>"COULD YOU<em> PLEASE</em>.... FOR THE LOVE OF<em> GOD</em>... STOP. THE. <em>GODDAMN</em>. <em>HAMMERING!"</em> he turned around and bellowed yet again. Aziraphale had started to back away and by the time Crowley turned back, two of the cast members approached him just as workers walked in front him carrying a very large piece of the set, obscuring his view and distracting him. "What? One moment.. hold on..." he grumbled at the cast members and by the time the set piece had cleared, Aziraphale had disappeared. "Angel?" he called out but he was gone. The woman from the Children's Actor's Advocacy approached him again, babbling something at him just as Tracey approached from behind and alerted him as to the time. "Mr. Crowley.. it's 11:30... your car is waiting!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading. Comments appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The First Ghost- Christmas Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was frazzled. He entered the restaurant by 11:58am and was taken to Mr. Gaiman's table, his head still buzzing from his unexpected visit from Aziraphale</p><p>"Mr. Gaiman... my apologies.." he smiled and sat down, "... incompetent driver or I'd have been here earlier. I hope you haven't waited long."</p><p>"Nonsense Crowley.... you're right on time." the older man smiled and waved the waiter over. "What will you have?"</p><p>Crowley raised his brows and composed himself a moment, "Uh... just seltzer with lime, please... " which gained an odd look from Mr. Gaiman. "Orrrr rather... a <em>vodka</em>.. and orange juice." he corrected, and nodded to Gaiman. "I'm afraid I haven't had breakfast yet so, going easy on the intake, y'know."</p><p>"You seem a little .... frayed, my boy. Are you alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost." his superior asked.</p><p>A ghost? Oh, yes, he'd seen a ghost. The memory of last night's vision of Lusifer traipsing around his office with his rotting-self seemed to come to the forefront of Crowley's mind just as Mr. Gaiman's fancy watch chimed the hour, twelve o'clock. Crowley held his breath.</p><p><em>"You will be visited by three ghosts...the first will appear to you tomorrow... at noon." </em>he remembered Lusifer promising him.</p><p>"Oh... yes!" Crowley gushed, "Quite alright. Busy morning, you know. Last minute details for tonight..." He exhaled, looking around the room nervously. He was being ridiculous, this was insane. He just hadn't gotten enough sleep. </p><p>"Good. I trust we're ready then? There's quite a lot of anticipation about the show tonight. I stopped by the set this morning and things seemed a little... unfinished...."</p><p>Crowley felt like he was coming unhinged and he struggled to keep his shit together right now.</p><p>"Oh no... no.. everything is <em>perfectly</em> under control... I just came from there and...." Crowley stammered for words, which was entirely unlike him. He usually had no trouble at all at smoothing any concerns that Gaiman had. He didn't have to try for very long. His stammering was halted by a slap on the back.</p><p>"Crowley!" Bea exclaimed. "Good to see you again, chap! Good afternoon, Mr. Gaiman!" they reached across Crowley's face, to the point where Crowley had to shift his head back a bit to avoid coming into contact with an elbow to the nose,  and shook their boss' hand before taking their seat on the other side of Crowley.</p><p>"Bea." Gaiman addressed them, "How are you.? I asked Bea to join us for lunch, Crowley... they have some thoughts on tonight's show that I thought they could share with you."</p><p>Ah. So that's what it was. Gaiman didn't think Crowley was up to the task of completing the live performance tonight so he brought in Bea to...<em>oversee</em>?</p><p>"<em>Do they</em> now?" Crowley sneered. "I'm<em> most</em> intrigued! Though.. it <em>is</em> rather late in the game, 'innit?  I mean, to <em>change</em> anything..."</p><p>"Not change, Crowley... just... <em>tweek</em>." Bea remarked, holding his fingers up before Crowley's face and twisting them as if holding a key,  returning the slick smile.</p><p>Crowley wanted to take them by their fucking throat and throw them across the room.. or better yet, smash them against Gaiman til they were both broken and bleeding.</p><p> </p><p>"You're drink.. sir." the waiter announced and set the glass before Crowley.</p><p>He was about to reply to Bea when he looked down at the glass and saw something moving in it. Upon closer examination, he saw something dark, and slithering. He gasped and looked up at the waiter. "What the hell is this?" he asked pointedly.</p><p>"You're orange juice and vodka, sir."</p><p>Crowley looked back at the glass in time to see a small black snake slithering from it's edge and onto the table. He let out a startled cry shot back in his chair from the table, simultaneously picking up his napkin and pounding it on the table to crush the serpent. Those within ear shot and sight of him in the room fell silent, as did Gaiman and Bea, both startled by Crowley's odd reaction to having a drink served to him. "What do you mean by this?" Crowley hissed. He lifted the napkin and saw nothing under it, he bent over to look under the table. "Where did it go? Did you see that?"</p><p>The waiter didn't miss a beat and picked up the glass and took it away, "Very sorry sir, I'll bring you a fresh one." though he knew not what was wrong with this one.</p><p>Crowley looked at Gaiman and Bea and saw that they too hadn't reacted as though anything were wrong.  In fact they both looked rather shocked by him. He shook his head and blinked his eyes. "You didn't ... <em>see</em> that?" he asked.</p><p>"See what?" Bea asked. It became evident that only Crowley had seen the snake.</p><p>"Are you ... feeling alright, Crowley?" Gaiman asked. He sounded concerned but Crowley knew all too well what he meant was that Crowley wasn't well... at all.. and Bea's presence  at this lunch was undoubtedly for that very reason. His doubt that Crowley could handle his own job.</p><p>"I'm ... fine.. fine.. " he brushed off and pulled his chair back into the table.</p><p>"Perhaps you should eat something..." Gaiman suggested, "I took the liberty of ordering us the cob salads."</p><p>"That sounds wonderful, actually," Crowley sighed with relief. Yes, he was just deprived of food and sleep and as soon as tonight's show was done, and he got some sleep, he'd be fine. Another waiter brought a tray to the table and placed the salads before Gaiman, Bea and lastly, Crowley.   </p><p>Crowley let out a scream that stopped everything in the room. Not one, not two but a <em>bowlful</em> of small, black slithering snakes wound around themselves in his salad bowl. He jumped up from the table to the shock of his companions. "I.... I'm sorry... I think I just need... a little air." he muttered, a little breathlessly, white as a sheet and shaking. "Just... .some air." he repeated, trying not to faint or throw up as he hurried out of the restaurant and rushed into the street. The cold air immediately sobered him and he yelled for a cab.</p><p>"Taxi.. please.. TAXI!" he bellowed with his arm waving frantically. One seemed to appear out of nowhere but he didn't care and grabbed for the handle of the black cab. He scrambled into it and slammed the door behind him.</p><p>"Where to, pal?", came the gruff voice from the front seat of the cab.</p><p>" Hel-Direct Network.... I think... I mean.. yeah, yeah.. just take me to my office... " Crowley blurted out.</p><p>Crowley hadn't really noticed that the interior of the cab itself was overly, and tackily decorated in Christmas decorations. Tinsel and colored lights were strewn across the back window and seat, each window had glittery snow flakes hanging from the roof of the car and the front dash was completely decked in garland, tinsel and lights. He hadn't really noticed because upon giving the address, the cab jolted into motion at a speed unnatural on <em>this</em> street with <em>this</em> traffic. They sideswiped two parked cars as the driver spun the car in a one-eighty and took off in the opposite direction he'd started out in.</p><p>"Jesus Christ, you just hit those cars!" Crowley yelled, "Oh my god... LOOK OUT!" he screamed as he looked ahead and saw an oncoming lorry. The cab swerved missing him by half an inch which seemed to amuse the driver to no end as he laughed aloud over and over again. When Crowley hollered,  he mocked him and laughed all the more. He made a very sharp left down a narrow ally, tossing Crowley abruptly to one side of the car. "Okay... stop... STOP.. let me out!" he screamed.</p><p>"Relax, Crowley... enjoy the <em>ride</em>!" the driver said indifferently, and casually kept driving like a maniac.</p><p>Crowley furrowed his brows and grabbed the back of the front seat and sat up. "How do you know my name?" he asked warily.</p><p>"I know everything, Anthony....." the driver chuckled, then turned around in his seat and face him. " ya see....<em> I'm the ghost!</em>" he laughed manically.</p><p> Crowley's eyes went as large as saucers. He looked at the identification card on the front of the dashboard with the man's photo on it, reading, "<strong>Ghost of Christmas Past</strong>" in large black print.  The man was grotesque. He wore a red and black checkered cap over his very thick gray hair that looked like something a 50's Rockabilly hoodlum would wear. His face was large and shades of grey and green and purple, his teeth, large and stained, mostly likely from the thick cigar he held between them as he spoke and puffed away on it.</p><p>The driver was no longer even looking at where they were going. The ally was narrow and they were <em>speeding</em> down it, ricocheting off the sides of the brick walls on either side, speeding towards a thick fog that once they entered, the driver came to a screeching halt. Crowley was jolted forward and when he recovered himself, he looked out the frosted windows of the car.  They were on a snowy neighborhood street, at night, but every house was lit with Christmas lights, colored and blinking and festive. All the houses but one. One small brick row house among all the others, was dark. Only a flickering television light shown through the front window.</p><p>Crowely gaped.</p><p>"Recognize it?" the ghost asked as he pointed up to the little house with his cigar in hand.</p><p>"It's.. it's where I grew up.. it's my old house." Crowley answered in bewilderment. "But this burned down years ago.... I was... eleven or twelve ... they tore down half the street since then"  he trailed off and spied the driver suspiciously, suddenly coming to a realization.  "Ahhhh... I know what this is... I know what you're doing...." he growled, pointing his finger at the spirit.</p><p>"Cmon... your dad'll be home soon, Anthony... It's Christmas eve." he commented as he got out of the car and opened Crowley's door.</p><p>"Fine... fine..." Crowley quipped, "I'll play along... sure. And stop calling me Anthony!  I know what this is... you're going to show me some heartfelt scene from my past and I'm supposed to get all gooey and break down in tears... <em>well, it won't work</em>! You understand that?  My childhood was not anything to reminisce about, you can be sure of that! Show the way... by all means..." Crowley remarked as he trotted up the front stoop to the door, pulling his coat around him.</p><p>The ghost appeared out of thin air before him when Crowley began to open the front door, stopping him in his tracks. "Yeah.. that's exactly what Stalin said.... but when he saw his<em> mother</em>.... " the ghost put his fingers before his eyes and made a gesture of tears falling, "<em>Niagra Falls</em>!" he mocked.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley followed him into the mudroom of his old house, a quick left and they were standing in the archway to the living room. There was a woman, long red curls were tied up high on her head in pins and the back in curlers. She was sitting in an old, worn chair using a dim lamp beside her to see something she was embroidering. Crowley's mouth gaped open as he stared at her.</p><p>"Mum." he whispered.</p><p>He had nearly forgotten how beautiful she had been. The television was blaring in the background, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer children's tv special, and the cushions and pillows from the sofa near the window were stacked into a fort with a quilt thrown over them.</p><p>"Anthony sweetie... you're father will be home soon... come out of there you devil." the woman cooed.</p><p>"I can't. I can't." a little voice answered.</p><p>His mother laughed and put her embroidery down on the end table. She crawled over to the opening of the couch fort and peeked inside.</p><p>"C'mon devil? If I do my magic, will you come out?" she urged him with smiles.</p><p>A little red haired boy, no more than five popped his head out from the opening under the blanket and nodded, amber eyes sparkling in the flickering from the television. "Yes." he beamed.</p><p>His mother grinned and put her hands inside the blanket and took her little boy by the waist and began wiggling her fingers all over him til he was giggling and squealing. "Okay now,. that's enough magic ...you come out of there now. Your father will be here soon." She took his little face in her warm hands and kissed his face. "I love you, Anthony, my angel." </p><p>Crowley watched, and the ghost watched him. "She was magical, wasn't she?" the spirit asked Crowley.</p><p>Crowley nodded but didn't take his eyes off the woman he'd not seen in almost 30 years. He swallowed the lump in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>He was broken from his trance by a clattering and door slamming.</p><p>"Goddammit!" the man that entered through the front door growled, "those fucking kids! They've been sledding again on the sidewalk! It's a sheet of fucking ice!" He took his hat and coat off and angrily hung them on the hook in the hallway. He carried two brown paper packages under one arm as he entered the living room. Crowley's mother had stood up and began taking the cushions apart and putting them back on the sofa, wrapping the quilt around Crowley's shoulders as he sat cross legged in front of the tv.<br/>"What's for dinner?" his father growled. "What's this mess?" he inquired as she tucked the pillows back on the ends of the sofa.</p><p>"Anthony was building a fort is all. Dinner is still warm. It's on the table." she gestured to the kitchen hoping to distract him away from the young boy.</p><p>His dad went over to where his son sat and tossed one of packages down on the floor in front of him. "Here Tony. Merry Christmas." he sneered, sarcastically. </p><p>"Is it a magic kit?" Crowley asked excitedly and picked up the freezing cold paper bag.</p><p>"NO!" the man yelled, "It's a double pack of lamb chops." He'd brought them home form work, a grocery store where he worked in the frozen food department. He tossed the other brown package to his wife and she caught it. "That one's for you. Three pounds of choice ground. They were gonna toss 'em! They're out of date today, but it's still good..... as long as you make it by tomorrow for dinner." he announced.</p><p>"But... I asked Father Christmas for a magic kit." Anthony pouted.</p><p>His father glared down at him. "Well when you get a fucking job you can go buy yourself one, now <em>can't</em> you?" he growled. "There's no such thing as <em>magic</em>..." he growled, "... if you want something in life, you better learn to <em>work</em> for it. That's all I hear all day..." he sounded off, turning back towards his wife, "...people always wanting something for nothing. Always looking for a handout." he grumbled as he followed her out to the kitchen. "Those waste of space tossers were at the store again today looking for left overs. I'll be damned if I'm gonna give over free food to those lazy buggers! Let 'em get a job and work like I have to do. I don't like it either but that's the way it is... " he trailed off and Anthony sat looking down at the brown paper wrapped meat on the floor before picking it up and taking it to the kitchen for his mother to put away in the freezer.</p><p> "It's time for bed. Get upstairs." hid father hissed at him.</p><p>"But, Daddy... Rudolph is on..."</p><p>His father lunged from his chair and grabbed for the child. Anthony squealed and ran upstairs, past, or possibly through, adult Crowley, and the ghost who had been invisibly watching the whole time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You went up to bed and pulled the covers over your head to keep from hearing them fight, didn't you? Like you always did.." the phantom inquired.</p><p>Crowley's eyes were full of tears and when he blinked, they ran steadily down his pale cheeks.</p><p>"Niagra Falls, <em>Anthony</em>." the ghost whispered near his ear.</p><p>"She left him a year later... " Crowley said quietly, as he stared off into the kitchen, "we moved in with my grandparents."</p><p>"She died when you were nine... " the ghost continued, "... they suspected it was him."</p><p>Crowley choked back the lump in his throat.</p><p>"He disappeared after she died. My grandparents raised me after that. They died within months of eachother right after my seventeenth birthday."  Crowley sobbed. He managed to stay under the radar of Children and Youth after that, getting a job and going to college on the money that his grandparents left for him. He'd been on his own ever since then... until...</p><p>until he met Aziraphale.</p><p>"Take me away from here!" he snapped out of his despair. "<em>Fuck you for showing me this</em>... fuck you for <em>bringing</em> me here. I raised myself up from this mess... I'm not <em>anything</em> like him." he growled and shoved past the ghost and out the front door where he promptly slid on the ice and fell flat on his back. When he opened his eyes, he was being helped up by a strong hand in his and another around his back.</p><p> </p><p>"I told you not to rush!" Aziraphale chuckled. "Are you alright? Did you hit your head?"</p><p>Crowley stared at Aziraphale, stunned. He stood up and looked away for a moment to their surroundings and when he looked back, it wasn't Aziraphale, it was the cab-driving ghost. </p><p>"What is this?" Crowley asked flatly, even though he already knew. He looked up at the Chinese lettering on the neon sign above them, and then up at the second floor windows adorned with electric candles in the tiny windows. He could just make out the Christmas tree lights in the corner of the window.</p><p>"Your second Christmas together... it's your one year anniversary... remember..." the ghost began to explain. "Wanna go have a closer look?" he suggested. "Just through that window." he grinned and winked, gesturing to the window to the flat above them. "You should be about on page...err... 46, is it? <em>The Kama sutra!"</em> he winked and wiggled his eyebrows up and down and grinned wickedly with the fat cigar between his yellow teeth. </p><p>"I recall just fine, <em>thank you!</em> I want to know why you're showing me this!" he snapped. It was painful enough to relive one night of his childhood, why did he have to go through a nearly forgotten memory of Aziraphale, too?</p><p>"Turn around." the ghost ordered him. "If you don't like that memory, just turn around."</p><p>Crowley scowled at him and did so, turning his back on the phantom, but when he did, he was looking at another unwanted scene. Christmas Eve, nine years ago, on the set of the show that Crowley was working on at the time. He watched as Aziraphale's heart broke as Crowley turned him down for their dinner plans with their friends to attend a dinner with his boss, instead.</p><p>"Oh my god... you <em>asshole</em>!" he screamed at his past self. "<em>Look at him</em>!" he pointed to Aziraphale, leaving the studio. "<em>Go after him!"</em> he screamed, getting right in his apparition's face. "What are you <em>doing</em>?"</p><p>"They can't hear you, moron.." the ghost laughed, these are just like... re-runs you're watching.. not a live show, you idiot!"</p><p> Getting no reaction from his younger double, he ran after Aziraphale, throwing open the double doors to the hallway. "Angel... ANGEL! Wait... STOP!" he yelled after him but he was met with people staring at him. "Did you see him? Did you see a blonde, angel-like man go this way?" he asked hurriedly.</p><p>"N-No... I'm sorry, Mr. Crowley... who are you looking for?" answered one of the wide-eyed interns.</p><p>Crowley suddenly realized he was back in the studio, on set... in the present. Bea Elizub was approaching him.</p><p>"ANTHONY!" they barked and came at him, slapping him on the back. "Where ya been buddy? We were looking all over for ya.. you were pretty green around the gills there at the Ritz, you feelin' better?"</p><p>Crowley brushed Bea's hand away adamantly. "Don't touch me, please.... what's going on here?"</p><p>"Hey everyone... let's take dinner", Bea yelled  "that's forty five for dinner, back on set by 5pm, okay?" Bea bellowed into a megaphone and everyone began clearing the studio.</p><p>"Excuse me?" Crowley snapped. "<em>I'm</em> the producer here.. this is <em>my</em> show... what the <em>fuck</em> do you think you're doing calling dinner?" he growled.</p><p>"OH, I'm sorry." Bea remarked, "You can call dinner then.. HEY everyone... Anthony has something to say... everybody hold up." they yelled and put the megaphone to Crowley's lips. "Go ahead... " they urged Crowley. </p><p>Crowley glared at them. "We need to talk." he said softly, ignoring the megaphone at his mouth.</p><p>"Hey, I'd love to, Crow, but ... I gotta make a few phone calls and ... frankly... " Bea leaned in and whispered in his face, "I gotta take a wicked pee. But,.. I'll take you up on that talk a little later, yeah?" they said as they backed a way and gave Crowley the thumbs up.</p><p>With that, he was gone, the set was cleared and the lights began to go out on set.</p><p>"HEY!!" Crowley yelled. "I'm still here! Turn those lights on!" he ordered angrily.</p><p>The last of the lights on set went out leaving him in complete blackness.</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Second Ghost- The Present Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The past sucked, huh? Well, not we're in present day Christmas and I'm sorry to say, it's not gonna get much happier... not for a little bit, anyway. I hope it helped to see where Crowley came from and where he developed some very bad habits.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Standing alone in a blacked out studio wasn't exactly great for Crowley's state of mind right now. He'd never been much of a fan of the dark to begin with, but at least the darkness part was about to change.</p><p>A large spot light clicked on and placed a circle in the middle of the floor just inches from where he stood.</p><p>"Thank god." Crowley muttered and looked up towards the control booth. "Turn the lights on will ya, so I can see my way the <em>hell</em> out of here." he grumbled.</p><p>"You're <em>right</em> where you need to be, Crowley!" came a sweet and childlike voice from above.</p><p>Crowley threw his head back and looked up. "Who's there?" he snapped.</p><p>"Who do you <em>think</em>?" she answered and more tiny lights appeared and danced around the room as she floated down to the middle of the spotlight with what looked like a team of fire-flies around her. She was petite, at least half Crowley's height. She grinned up at him with a big, childlike smile. "I'm the Ghost of Christmas <em>Present</em>!" she proudly announced.</p><p>Her lips were cherry red, her cheeks rosy. Her eyes were light but her hair lighter. It looked like spun gold vines gathered up on her head. Atop her hair, was a shimmering crown of jewels of many colors that seemed to change shape as she spoke. She wore what looked like a vintage prom dress from the 1950's, with a heart-shaped bodice, big silk sash tied in a bow and a long flowing skirt of several layers of tulle that all sparkled, and from her back stretched long, luminescent wings, that of a fairy.</p><p>"I never saw a ghost with <em>insect wings</em> before." he remarked flatly.</p><p>She giggled. "Ohhh... Crowley! how many ghosts have you actually <em>seen</em>?"</p><p>Three too many, he thought.</p><p>He pursed his lips. "Alright ... get on with it then, <em>ghost</em>! What will <em>you</em> show me... some present day Christmas party that I'm missing or  some ridiculously destitute family all gathered around a pitiful evergreen pining for the latest video game?"</p><p>"Oooo... a party? I love parties!" she giggled and began to twirl and dance around in the shimmering little lights that danced with her. She waved her arms and iridescent colored bubbles of all sizes began to appear and pop as she touched them with long, delicate fingers.</p><p>Crowley swatted at them. "Stop it... stop it!" he barked.</p><p>"Oh, you're so <em>grumpy</em>!" she remarked sweetly and floated up to him and bopped him on the nose with her finger as one would do to a child. "Okay... close your eyes...." she said.</p><p>"I'm not closing my eyes...."</p><p>"<em>CLOSE YOUR EYES</em>!"her voice taking on a low growl unbecoming of her stature or aesthetic, she    reached up high and grabbed his ear lobe, pinching it between her fingers til he doubled over. </p><p>"OW!" he screeched, Crowley finally shut his eyes, huffing through his nose.</p><p>"Now..." she began sweetly, in a sing-song voice, "Think of pret-ty things...<em>. butterflies</em>... and <em>puppies</em>... whiskers on <em>kiT-tens</em>..."</p><p>Crowley squinted open his eyes.</p><p>"No .. PEEKING!" replied the demon voice again and she nearly poked him in the eyes with two of her little fingers before he shut them tight again.</p><p>"Now..." she continued sweetly, "think of <em>moonbeams</em> and <em>snowflakes</em> on eye lashes... "</p><p>Somewhere in Crowley's mind, he had apparently stored away a vision that came back to him now... of Aziraphale one night out in the snow as they walked home and the tiniest, fluffiest snowflakes were gathering on his eye lashes. He almost smiled at the memory but was abruptly awakened from his pleasant recollection by a harsh slap to his face.</p><p>"Now OPEN your eyes and look!" she announced as she slapped him.</p><p>His hand clutching his jaw, he glared at her. " <em><strong>OW</strong></em>!  ... the <strong><em>fuck.</em></strong>.. <strong><em>did you do that for?"</em>  </strong>he growled.</p><p>She grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to see that they were standing in Gabriel and Michael's flat. Aziraphale was there and they were all kneeling down by the Christmas tree around a little girl, no more than five years old, in a wheel chair. They were laughing and cheering her on as she opened gifts.</p><p>"Tank you Uncle Zira!" she squealed as she hugged the plush unicorn to her chest.</p><p>"You're welcome, my dear." Aziraphale smiled... no, actually he was beaming.</p><p>"Uncle?" Crowley repeated, confused. Aziraphale had no siblings.</p><p>"He's her Godfather... that's Michael and Gabriel's little girl. Aziraphale helps with her medical bills. He works as many hours as he can and takes odd jobs when he can just to help out." the fairy ghost explained without breaking her infectious smile. </p><p>"Whatever<em> for</em>? It's not his responsibility? It's not <em>his</em> child." Crowley scoffed.</p><p>"Well, because he has a<em> heart</em>, of course. Or have you forgotten about that?  Michael and Gabriel  are his best friends. They and that little girl are all he has ... he <em>wants</em> to help. She <em>adores</em> him." she said and watched as the little girl beamed bright smiles up at Aziraphale. "But then who wouldn't... he's <em>simply angelic</em>!" the fairy aquiesced giddily. </p><p>"Yeah well... you should hear that so called angel in bed," he muttered under his breath, "not a bit angelic, I promise you!" </p><p>The fairy-like ghost giggled and swatted him hard across the back of his head. </p><p>"Uh..<em>OW</em>?" he complained, holding the back of his head. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley watched the scene unfold before them for a few minutes. Aziraphale looked so happy, so natural with the child. He remembered in the last year that they were together that Aziraphale talked , or tried to talk to him, about getting married and adopting a child. Like everything else, Crowley put him off, .when '<em>we're in better financial shape</em>,' or <em>'once I'm in a better position at the network'</em> , or <em>'we'll talk about it later.</em>' were always his responses.</p><p>Aziraphale had bought a ring that last Christmas. Unbeknownst to Crowley, he'd planned on proposing to him on Christmas morning. Instead, they broke up.</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't know Michael and Gabe had a kid." he said to himself as he continued to watch them laugh and play with her. "Is she... very unwell? Will she not walk?" he asked the ghost.</p><p>"Maybe.... " she replied flippantly, "She needs a surgery. It's risky and very expensive. If she's a good match for the procedure, she could walk by the time she's seven. Now, come along.. we have other places to see..." she urged him and grabbed at his sleeve. He looked away for a split second and when he looked back, it was later... Aziraphale, Michael and Gabriel were all sitting around the coffee table with drinks and playing a game... Crowley's favorite game, Cards Against Humanity. He and Aziraphale, when they played it together, managed to make it a strip card game. They never made it very far into the game for this reason.</p><p>When it was Aziraphale's turn, Crowley walked up behind him and checked his cards.</p><p>"Ah..." he grinned, "<em>that</em> one... <em>that</em> one is worth his pants." he remarked, pointing to one of the cards in Aziraphale's hand. "<em>If</em> he was playing with just <em>me</em>, that is." </p><p>Aziraphale started to pick that card but at the last second, changed his mind.</p><p>"What?" Crowley squawked, "clearly.. mine was the better choice."</p><p>They looked on as the friends played, laughing and teasing one another. Crowley's smile was wide and his eyes remained so fondly on Aziraphale. Michael excused herself to check on the little girl who was now in bed. Aziraphale took the opportunity to pull something out of his pocket and put it on the table before Gabriel. A small black box.</p><p>"I'd like you to use this to help pay for her surgery." Aziraphale said softly. He'd been waiting for the chance to talk to Gabriel alone. Gabe spied him suspiciously and picked up the box and opened it.</p><p>"Oh... Aziraphale... NO... no, no..." he snapped the box shut.</p><p>"Please... " Aziraphale insisted, "I know it's not much but... you can probably get a few hundred for it."</p><p>He'd paid $510.99 for it nine years ago. On sale. It was a lot of money to him then. It was a lot now, too.</p><p>Gabriel pressed the box back into Aziraphale's hand. "No." he said affirmatively. "Besides....hocking engagement rings is bad luck. Save it to put on the finger of someone that deserves your greatness."</p><p>Crowley could only stand and gape at the ring, then at Aziraphale. "Wus...wusthat....was he gonna give that... to me?" he said to the ghost, but mostly to himself. </p><p>"C'mon, Crow.. time to go.... OH! That rhymes!" the ghost chirped and took Crowley's arm.</p><p>Crowley yanked away from her harshly. "Not yet... " he snapped. He couldn't take his eyes off of Aziraphale. He looked at the little box in his hand and then back at Aziraphale. Was... was that?" he pointed to the ring box in Aziraphale's hand.</p><p>The ghost let go of his sleeve and grabbed him by the back of the neck. "Let's <strong><em>GO</em></strong>!" she growled at him, then gleefully smiled and gave him a good shove to make him fall flat on his face.</p><p>Standing up and wiping his fingers across his lips to be sure he wasn't bleeding, he grit his teeth. "The fuck, you brain-damaged fairy... that was <em>hardly</em> necessary...." but then he looked up and around him. "Where are we?"</p><p>The large room that held nearly two hundred people in it was full of chatter, happy chatter and the clanking of utensils on plates, and the aroma of food. turkey and potatoes and vegetables and fresh baked bread. This was the largest group that the Shelter had fed to date and though they had just barely enough to go around, they were thankful for it.</p><p>"This is the Shelter's annual Christmas Eve dinner.... " the ghost announced as she bounced and clapped her hands gently together, "Look how <em>happy</em> they are! And there will be <em>presents</em>! For all the children... Aziraphale made sure everyone of them would get a little something."</p><p>Crowley looked over the room, stepping closer to one of the tables to get a better look. "It's not much... only a tiny piece of meat for each plate." he observed.</p><p>The ghost came prancing up behind him and he winced a moment, expecting another slap or kick or pinch. "Oh, but they're happy for it. For some of them, it's the first real meal in weeks... and for some it's their first real Christmas in years... maybe ever!" she reminded him. She wasn't the Ghost of Christmas Past so she wasn't allowed to remind him of his Christmases as a child, but she didn't need to . Crowley remembered them all too well.</p><p>His father, often drunk, yelling at his mother, or him, verbally and physically abusive to them both. They had enough money to eat and get by but his father often spent too much on gambling and drinking to give them any kind of a decent holiday. Once they moved in with his grandparents, his mother worked and scraped to get by too as she didn't want to dip into her parent's savings. Once she died, Crowley didn't care much to celebrate holidays. Til he met Aziraphale, of course, who was like Santa Clause and sunshine wrapped into one lovely bundle.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Third Ghost - Christmas Future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We all know how this story goes.<br/>The last ghost is the scariest and maybe saddest one of all.<br/>ENJOY!<br/>*mwaha ha haaaa*</p>
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    <p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Crowley turned around to address a question to the Ghost of Christmas Present, he was alone, and standing in a park. He looked around to recognize that he was in the city's park where he'd often walked, with Aziraphale's hand in his, as a shortcut to their apartment from the shelter. Everything was snow covered, the fountains empty except for the frozen puddles that remained in them. The wind had kicked up and he wasn't dressed for being left out in the cold in merely a suit jacket.</p><p>"Well that's just perfect... just <em>perfect</em>!" he growled. He looked up to the skies and yelled, "<em>PERFECT</em>! Just leave me out here!" Looking down at his expensive Italian shoes covered in snow. "Dammit!"  He began trudging through the snow back to the end of the park, towards the shelter. He'd had just about enough of this nonsense and was now convinced that whatever it was in his mind that brought on these intense nightmares he was living through was a result of unresolved feelings, or memories of Aziraphale. All the way there, he muttered his one sided argument to Aziraphale:</p><p>"It's certainly no fault of <em>mine</em>, ...just because I wanted <em>more</em> of my life, ... if you'd just given me <em>time</em> to sort things out we could have gotten <em>married</em>... why did you have to <em>rush</em> things so much?" he muttered to himself or to the pigeons or to whatever passerby was listening to his rants all while he waived his arms around aimlessly, " Wasn't it enough that I <em>loved</em> you? I needed to work... I couldn't just be another <em>dead beat</em> for you to look after..... like one of those <em>pitiful</em> creatures you immerse your time and energy into.... <em>if you'd just waited</em>... we could have such a <em>wonderful</em> life ...a <em>beautiful</em> life!" A startled woman pulled her child closer to her as she heard him ranting and rushed to get further from the stranger.  " We could have had a house, .... not living in that hovel of an apartment over that stinking restaurant... no... you could be living with me in a <em>penthouse.</em>... we could have been <em>happy</em>.... but <em>noooooo!</em>" he howled, giving an exaggerated wave of his hand into the air.</p><p>By the time he reached the steps of the shelter, his trousers were soaked to the knees, his shoes were ruined, his hands were numb from the cold and trying to hold his suit jacket tight around his body and  he was trembling so hard his teeth were chattering. He barged in practically falling when he slipped with his wet shoes. A woman immediately approached him with a blanket and draped it over his shoulders.</p><p>"Ohh.. <em>poor dear</em>... come in here and get warm... sit right over here and I'll get you a hot coffee." she urged him.</p><p>"Nev-v-ver mind that..." Crowley attempted to say with teeth chattering, pulling the warm blanket around him nevertheless, "w-w-where's 'Zzzz-iraphale? I need to talk to h-him!" he commanded. </p><p> </p><p>The woman looked at him with furrowed brow, "Aziraphale? Aziraphale who, honey? Were you meeting someone you know here?"</p><p>"A-ZIRAPHALE... " he barked angrily, "<em>Aziraphale F-Fell</em>? ... your <em>boss</em>? Or <em>whatever</em> he is here... he's worked here for <em>years</em>! Are you<em> new?"</em> he asked irritably.</p><p>She shook her head. "There's no Aziraphale here, darlin'. I've worked here for ten years... Do you mean Agnes? She's right over there." she pointed to a short-ish, light haired, middle-aged woman serving coffee to a group of older men. "That's Agnes Nutter, she runs the shelter..." the woman offered. </p><p>Crowley glanced but shook his head, "No... don't you think I know who I'm asking for?" he snapped irritably at the woman. </p><p>Glancing around the room after she had convinced him to sit down and warm up, he looked for Aziraphale... but saw no trace of him. Maybe he was in the wrong place? How could that be? He'd walked Aziraphale home from here many an evening. It couldn't possibly be the wrong place.  Minutes later, the woman pointed out to him as the head of the shelter brought him a coffee and greeted him with a warm smile and sat across from him. " Hello... I'm Agnes ...would you like a coffee?"</p><p>Crowley grimaced at the cardboard cup of sludge the woman offered, ignoring the question, "Do you know Aziraphale? I need to see him right away."</p><p>Agnes' smile faded only slightly, "I'm afraid I don't, I'm sorry, uh, Mr?"</p><p>"Crowley... I'm an old friend of his... I need to see him right away... there's something going on and I .... I think .... I think he might know what's going on or ... or ... how to stop it or ... <em>Oh</em>, I don't know.. I  just need to see him... <em>now</em>!" he argued. "He's worked here for at least ten years.... " he growled and stood up, "Never mind..." he said tossing the blanket off and into Agnes' hands.</p><p>"Wait... " Agnes said as Crowley began to storm away, "Please... take a coat if you insist on going back out." she followed him towards the door and grabbed a used black coat from a rack of donated clothing, "Please... you'll freeze out there."</p><p>Crowley scowled at the worn, used coat but took it reluctantly. He didn't want to wear the out of style, used thing but, it was rather cold out.</p><p>"When you come back, we'll be serving a meal at six." Agnes informed him.</p><p>"Come back? I'm not coming back, you fool!" he barked and flung the door open to leave. </p><p> </p><p>In the street, Crowley tried to find a cab. He hailed no less than four, all of them passing him. "Goddammit! Am I <em>fucking invisible</em> here?" he yelled at the fourth one that passed.</p><p>He searched his suit for his phone to call Tracey for a car to be sent for him, not finding it anywhere on his person. He stepped into a drug store to get out of the wind and better search his pockets but came up with nothing. In fact, he came up with nothing at all, no wallet, no keys. His pockets were empty.</p><p>"Fuck!" he hissed and hurriedly started back towards the shelter. He'd been robbed!</p><p>Agnes was at the door to greet him with a warm smile once again.</p><p>"<em>Alright</em>... very clever pick pockets you have here....was it you or that <em>woman</em>?" Crowley snarled. "I want my wallet, my phone and my keys if you don't mind... RIGHT now!" </p><p>Agnes' smile didn't fade a bit. "Of course you do, Mr. Crowley... come with me please." she said without waiting another moment and walked away from him.</p><p>Crowley stalked after her "Is this what you do here.. steal from those that seek shelter?" he scoffed behind Agnes' back as they walked towards the other end of the large room past several people huddled in groups, some chatting, some drinking warm beverages, others still sitting alone and rocking in their seats with far off looks in their eyes. Agnes stopped and opened a door and ushered Crowley to enter before him.</p><p>"After you." she grinned. </p><p>Thinking that he was entering an office, "My lawyers are gonna hear about this, I assure you... I should call the authorities on you people." he grumbled as he stepped inside and found himself walking right out into the snowy street again. "Hey!" he barked and turned to berate the shelter worker that had most likely tossed him out the back door, to find her standing there behind him, wearing a black cloak over black clothes. What was more bizarre was that the building they'd just walked out of was gone. They were on a different street, one that Crowley knew but was several blocks from where they just were. "What ...  the hell.... oh ... no, no, no..." he murmured. </p><p>"If you'll step this way Crowley... I believe you were looking for Aziraphale?" Agnes asked politely, still smiling.</p><p>Crowley paused. "Let me guess.... you're the third." His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. "Well good... get on with it... if you're the third, then you're the final and we'll be done, yes? "</p><p>"Of course. As you wish." Agnes replied sweetly. She began leading Crowley to a nearby café. "You see, Crowley, ... the reason you have no identification, keys , etcetera, is because it's the future... I of course am the Ghost of Chris.."</p><p>"YES... I get it.. the Ghost of Christmas Future.... I'm not an <em>idiot</em>, I know how this works...." he snapped, "... so where pray tell are you taking me?"</p><p>Agnes stopped and turned to face him. "Right here, actually. Is that who you're looking for?" she asked, gesturing to a blonde man sitting at a table.</p><p>Crowley rushed over to the table and sat down across from Aziraphale. "'Ziraphale... thank god... I need to talk to you... you said if it happened again I could call you , and well... I don't know if I'm loosing my mind or just... look, I need you to ...."</p><p>"Hello Darling!..." Aziraphale's eyes lit up and he smiled, but he was looking right past Crowley, right <em>through</em>  him. "There's my girl... all ready for lunch?"</p><p>Crowley gawked wide-eyed for a moment before turning around and finding another man, holding a little girl in his arms that he'd just brought in the door. The other man was tall, also blonde, well built and handsome but had a scowl on his face when he handed her down to Aziraphale. "All yours." he remarked sharply at Aziraphale, "Have her back at my place by Sunday night... no later than eight... I have someone coming over and I want to get her to bed before that."</p><p>Azirphale nodded curtly at him. "Sure .... I don't mind keeping her another night if you have plans...I could drop her at school on my way to work Monday."</p><p>Crowley just gawked, unable to decipher what was happening or why he was being completely ignored. </p><p>"Yeah well , that would be good... thanks." the other man said and gave the little girl's hair a tussle. "See you later, kiddo. Here's her canes," Douglas added, "she refuses to use them at all anymore."</p><p>"That's because she's growing out of them.." Aziraphale replied with a wide grin, happy that Uriel was walking almost entirely on her own now.</p><p>"Bye Douglas." the little girl waved and turned her attention back to Aziraphale. "Hi Uncle Zira. I want chips!"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley watched all of this in disbelief. He recognized the little girl even though she was a few years older, as being Gabriel and Michael's daughter. <em>"Who's this</em>?" he asked Aziraphale, pointing his thumb at the extra man standing at the table, as if he could be heard. "Did y-you.... who<em> is</em> that?"</p><p>"For not being an idiot, you surely act like one at times, dontcha?" Agnes huffed.</p><p>"What's going on here?" Crowley demanded as he stood up and face the haughty stranger.</p><p>"Aziraphale married Douglas... someone he dated for some time after you left him. He convinced him... and <em>himself</em>, that he'd be happy with him because he so desperately wanted to get over you. He thought if he finally married and moved on, that would happen. They legally adopted Uriel after Michael and Gabriel died in that awful accident last year. Uriel was in it too, but ... she survived. Her parents were just so exhausted from driving back and forth to the only specialist that they <em>could</em> afford, Gabriel fell asleep at the wheel." she added sadly. "Unfortunately, Azirphale and Douglas divorced shortly after, so they now share custody only because Aziraphale has to work so many hours during the week." </p><p>Crowley's mouth fell open. This was more information in one sentence than he could comprehend. He turned back to look at Aziraphale, bouncing the little girl on his lap as they looked over the menu and he bargained with her to get some steamed veggies to go with her French fries. "You fool..." he whispered. "...why did  you not just ask me for the money... they could have sent her to a specialist right here in the city."</p><p>"He might have... had you not been so incredibly rude to him when he last saw you." Agnes remarked sharply. "But come along... there's more to see."</p><p>"I really don't want to see more... please... I'm exhausted and ... overwhelmed." he sighed.  "I just want to go home and have a very big drink and  .... sleep this off." Crowley turned back towards the ghost and was compelled to follow her, not wanting to see more but not wanting to stay here either.</p><p> </p><p>Agnes lead him back out of the café and into the street again. "Do you recognize that man?" she pointed out as the man walked past them.</p><p>Crowley did indeed. It was the man he'd just fired yesterday, Hastur, but he looked older, and homeless. He was wrapped up in a heavy coat and wore thin shoes that weren't meant for the cold weather. His hair was long as was his beard and he stopped at the corner and begged for change.</p><p>"Thanks to you," Agnes began, "he couldn't find suitable work. You left him no letter of reference and the only job he could get wasn't enough to support his family. His wife left him and he hasn't seen his children since. He was a good man with ideas and skills but ... he made the mistake of speaking to you as though you were a human being. Didn't he?"</p><p>Crowley looked down, feeling a little humiliated and humbled. "Surely that's not the only reason she left..."</p><p>"He lost all hope and desire to go on after she left, "Agnes interrupted, "perhaps if none of that had happened, he'd be spending Christmas with his teenage children by now. They were just toddlers when he last saw them."</p><p>Crowley grimaced. "Is that all? Are we quite done here?" he asked softly.</p><p>"Not quite." Agnes smiled. She put an arm around Crowley and gave him a shove inside a doorway.</p><p>Crowley stepped onto a carpeted floor, and his nose filled with the aroma of flowers. Soft music played in the background. Well at least this wasn't so bad. At least it was warm here and rather pleasant it seemed. However, it only took him a moment to look around to see that he was in a funeral home. Agnes gestured to the double doors before them and Crowley stepped through them slowly. Ahead of him, down an isle between empty chairs was a casket. In the first row of seats sat one man, a man he had no trouble recognizing even from here was Aziraphale,  and a young darker complexioned  woman sitting close beside him. Aziraphale sobbed as she tried to comfort him. He looked at least ten or twelve years older and the woman beside him, holding his hand was none  other than, Uriel, perhaps now in her early twenties. </p><p>"Uncle Zira.. please." she consoled him.</p><p>"I wish I'd been there... " Aziraphale whispered, "...if I'd just been there with him... so he wouldn't have been alone." he sobbed.</p><p>Crowley's stomach felt like it hit the floor. "Is it.... Douglas?" he turned to ask Agnes. She only looked at him without saying a word, and gestured for him to go forward towards the casket. Crowley's eyes widened and he looked more frantic,  "No... don't <em>do</em> this." he warned the ghost.</p><p>Agnes gave a single nod and again, gestured for him to go forward.</p><p>Crowley had no choice but to step closer. He stood beside Aziraphale still seated, and looked down at him. The lines around his eyes much deeper now and he wore a beard, his hair still pale but longer, and damn if he still wasn't the most handsome thing Crowley had ever set eyes on. Crowley's eyes swelled with unshed tears when he saw how distraught Aziraphale was.</p><p>Aziraphale, encouraged by Uriel, stood and went to the casket. He sobbed out whispers that Crowley could not hear. He didn't want to. He didn't want to go any closer to the casket.</p><p>"Why does he stay here after the funeral?" he asked of the ghost. "Why does he not just ... " he searched for words.</p><p>"This<em> is</em> the funeral, Crowley.  He is the only one to come with his daughter."</p><p>Crowley looked back at Aziraphale still standing near the casket and sobbing softly. He stepped closer to him, coming up behind his broad shoulders til he could see the figure in the casket that looked so ... aged. He gasped. Once copper hair now nearly completely white save for some pale reddish hues on top, face paled and full of lines and creases that made him look angry even in a peaceful state of death. It startled him to see himself looking so different. He wondered how he went. Apparently, he'd been alone and the last several years did not look good on him. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley paused for another moment before spinning around and grabbing Agnes by the front of her cloak and shaking her. "Alright... enough...<em> enough</em>! Why are you all showing me these things? Why show me this if I cannot<em> do</em> anything about it?"</p><p>Agnes only chuckled softly at Crowley's rant. "No one said you cannot." she blinked and tilted her head. "This is your future as it stands now... one of many <em>possible</em> futures."</p><p>Crowley gripped the cloak tighter. "Tell me...<em> tell me</em>!" he shouted. "Tell me how to <em>change</em> all this!" he demanded loudly and angrily shook the phantom's cloak. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. That's a Wrap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Will Crowley finally GET IT, or will he be doomed to live out a life of the future he's seen? I think we all know, there are no un-happy endings here.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mr. Crowley!... Mr.. Crowley?" the cameraman stared wide-eyed at the show's Executive Producer as Crowley had him by the shirt collar, shaking him mercilessly. "Nothing can be changed<em> now</em>! It's too <em>late..</em> we go on in three <em>minutes!" </em></p><p>"It <em>can be</em> changed... it <em>has</em> to be... changed... it..." he stopped and looked around at the full staff and cast staring at him, some blankly, some in shock. He slowly let go once and he realized he wasn't gripping the lapels of the Ghost's cloak any longer, and was instead standing in a studio about to go into a live show in mere minutes. He stepped back and smooth the cameraman's shirt, then straightened his own tie and cleared his throat.</p><p>"Alright everyone... carry on... " he murmured with none of his usual confidence. </p><p>Slowly, the cast and crew began to take their places and the whispers soon turned into chatter. Crowley took his seat behind the cameras and watched everyone, still paranoid that it wasn't all real. He searched the faces for that of the Ghost he'd last seen until a voice from the control booth came over the speakers, "Alright everyone.. that's fifteen seconds! Places... places, everyone." the director barked.</p><p>Crowley glanced at his Rolex. He looked at his hand, to his empty finger where Aziraphale would have slid that ring onto. He thought of how destroyed Aziraphale had looked in the funeral home, sobbing over Crowley's casket. He thought of poor little Uriel loosing her parents, and of that other man he'd seen that Aziraphale had married. His heart was racing and though only seconds had passed, it felt like hours. He could feel a lump in his throat and his skin breaking into a sweat.</p><p>"And.. that's five... four... three...<em> two</em>... " the voice came over the loudspeaker. Crowley looked up and the  'LIVE' sign was lit over the stage and doorways in large glowing red letters.</p><p>Crowley jumped to his feet and practically leapt over everything and everyone in his path to get on the set, knocking over the cue-card boy in the process. Everyone looked on in horror, the cast, about to deliver their first lines were mute, simply staring at the Executive standing, wide-eyed on the set in spot lights, his face pale.</p><p>"<em>Shit</em>." the director whispered behind camera two.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>At the Shelter, televisions were tuned to HEL-Direct to enjoy the live Christmas show. They were gathered around sitting on cushions, blankets, coats, benches and folding chairs. The staff, Aziraphale included, had provided popcorn, soft drinks and hot chocolate. There was plenty of babbling and chatter among the full room of people but one by one, the room began to go silent until everyone stopped and looked blankly at the television sets.  </p><p>It got Aziraphale's attention as he'd never heard so many people go quiet for the annual live tv show before. He looked up from what he was doing, pouring cups of hot cocoa, and stepped closer to the nearest television. "Crowley?" he whispered. His heart raced as he watched as seconds passed without Crowley doing or saying anything but staring wide-eyed into the camera.</p><p>"Isn't that... the guy you were dating a while back?" an older staff member asked, recognizing Aziraphale's ex-boyfriend that used to come volunteer at the shelter a handful of times. Aziraphale just nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving the screen.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Somebody get him out of there." hissed the director.</p><p>"Hello everyone." Crowley finally said right into the camera. "I know you're all expecting to see a live show and ... you're going to see one, I assure you... but first.. I have to just say something."</p><p>Everyone from the director to the cue card boys were face palming. In the control booth, there was an argument going on as to whether or not to cut and go to commercial. "No..... no, let him go... the ratings are going through the roof... leave him on." ordered the control manager as everyone in the control booth watched back and forth between the monitors and the live set through the windows over the stage.  "Get another spot light on him." he ordered.</p><p>The light came up in the studio and Crowley squinted a bit and raised his hand to wave to the control booth, "Oh... that's bright but.. thank you... yes." he turned back toward the camera and looked into it's lens. "I've been.... well, let's face it.. " he huffed, "I've been an asshole. To all of you... " he gestured around the room. "I've been pretty awful for.... for a very long time in fact. I want to apologize." he stated sincerely. "To you.... " he looked over at Tracey, his assistant, "Tracey... come here...." he waved her over.</p><p>She shook her head frantically, "NO" she mouthed but he went to her and pulled her onto the set.</p><p>"This is Tracey... my assistant, and she is my right hand." he smiled and took her hand, "and my left." he teased and turned to her. "Thank you for putting up with me.... and I know it's because you need this job, not because you like me. I dont' blame you. I've been horrible to you. I intend to make that up to you post haste... beginning with a raise and ... whatever time off you need to be with your mother." he assured her.</p><p>She gawked at him in disbelief but eventually smiled. "Thank you." she gushed.</p><p>Crowley turned around and addressed everyone in the studio. "I'm afraid I cannot offer all of you a raise... but... I think some bonuses can be arranged to be given out at the wrap up party tonight." he promised. Everyone broke into a soft cheer which grew as it dawned on each person that Crowley was serious. He turned back towards the camera and pointed into it, "And you.. if you're out there Haster,... you still have your job. I'm sorry for firing you so close to Christmas and... I'm sorry for firing you at all. You have good ideas and ... I was too proud and too arrogant to listen... but you come back here day after tomorrow and you have your job... and your bonus." he grinned.</p><p>Again, the set erupted into cheers.</p><p> </p><p>"Though... I'm not sure <em>I'll</em> have one after tonight..." he mumbled. </p><p> </p><p> The cheering was contagious right through the camera lenses and those at the shelter chimed in as well. Aziraphale was stunned but smiling all the same. This was the Crowley he knew many, many years ago and he was grateful to see him back, if for no other reason than for Crowley's sake.</p><p>At Michael and Gabriel's home, they too watched and were trying to call and text Aziraphale frantically.</p><p>'Turn on the live Christmas show!!!' Michael texted. 'Are you watching this???'</p><p> </p><p>"There's one more person I owe an apology to." Crowley continued. He stepped toward the camera and looked directly into it, his eyes sparkling and a bit wet. "Someone that ... I was very unfair to. Someone that didnt' deserve the way I treated him a long time ago, nor recently... and I want to tell him that I'm sorry." he paused and wiped a tear from his eye as he smiled. "Aziraphale, ... Angel...." he continued.</p><p>The shelter workers and patrons erupted into cheers, those standing closest to Aziraphale gripped his shoulders and patted him on the back. Aziraphale's eyes filled with tears as he watched and everyone around him shushed those that were cheering so as to hear the tv.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Angel... I'm <em>so</em> sorry... will you forgive me?" Crowley asked. "I"ve been so stupid... I <em>was</em> so stupid.. I never should have let you go. <em>I love you</em>, Aziraphale Fell. I've never stopped loving you and... if you'll have me... I'd be so grateful if you'd give me another chance." </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale didn't have to look for his coat, it was being put on him before he could even move to look for it. "Go to him, honey." the elder shelter worker said and shooed him out the door. He hailed a cab and on the way to the studio, texted back Michael. 'On my way to meet him! :)'</p><p> </p><p>"I've been missing so much," Crowley continued, "missing life and missing <em>love</em> and I don't want to do that anymore. There's so much <em>more</em> to life than just... making money. It means nothing if you have so much and give so little... or give nothing at all. So all of you out there, ... if you have someone or know someone that needs.... reach out. Help however you can. If you don't have the money, offer your company, or talents or.... just <em>be</em> there. If you have someone that you have let slip through your fingers, you have to <em>try</em>. You never know what a difference you might make. You don't know the future but you can make a difference... you <em>can</em>... just <em>say</em> something... do <em>something</em>... just reach out and try to do something good. " he pleaded. He knew he probably sounded crazy and he didn't care. He was so filled with a sense of true love and true Christmas spirit, he wanted to laugh and cry all at once. He had been given a gift of insight and he'd be damned if he was going to throw such a valuable gift away. He'd been given a second chance.</p><p> </p><p>The show went on, albeit a little delayed, to which no one, not even the sponsors seemed to mind. Fifteen minutes into the show, Aziraphale rushed onto the set during a commercial break. He found Crowley right away amidst a group of employees, happily signing off on Christmas bonuses and talking with Tracey about how he could best help her with her mother's illness. As though a beam of light came into the room, he looked in Aziraphale's direction as soon as the man entered. They rushed to one another and embraced.</p><p>"Crowley, ...Crowley... are you alright?" Aziraphale gushed, holding Crowley's lovely face in his large hands.</p><p>"Angel... my love.." he leaned in and kissed him chastely, "I've never been better..." and was promptly kissed again. "I've been such a fool... a complete and utter fool.... will you.... <em>can</em> you forgive me?"</p><p>"Forgive you?" Aziraphale replied, his smile broad and his eyes bright a wet. "On one condition." he answered, with a sparkle in his eye that only Crowley would know. "Come with me... if you can't now... later?"</p><p>Crowley looked around for a second and took Aziraphale's hand. "Now... right now."</p><p> </p><p>In the cab on way to their destination, Crowley promised Aziraphale that he'd take care of whatever medical bills that Uriel had. Aziraphale couldn't understand how Crowley knew so much of her condition but didn't question Crowley's offers knowing that Michael and Gabriel would be most grateful, as would he. They soon pulled up in front of the little Chinese food restaurant with the apartment above where Aziraphale still lived.</p><p>Crowley smiled. "You didn't move?"</p><p>"I thought to.... it was painful to remain here after you left but... I'm hardly here anyway." he confessed. He took Crowley's hand and they went inside and ran up the steps to the door of the apartment on the second floor. Aziraphale made quick work of the lock and barged inside the neatly kept three room flat. There was a small table top tree on an end table in the corner and electric candles in the two windows that looked out onto the street. Everything was exactly the same as what it had been when Crowley left. "Wait here." he said and kissed him again, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room.</p><p>"Hurry." Crowley whispered, holding Aziraphale's hand as long as their arms could extend til their fingers parted.</p><p>Aziraphale rushed into the bedroom. Some movement could be heard and then he was back again in seconds. He stood before Crowley again, then dropped to his knee and looked up at him. A soft wet sob came from Crowley's throat as his eyes filled again and he let out a huffed laugh.</p><p>Aziraphale held a tiny box in his hands and opened it, not taking his eyes off of Crowley's until he pulled from the box a sparkling band of silver and black with a small red ruby encased in it. He held it up between two fingers. "It's nine years late... but this is my condition." he murmured. "Will you..."</p><p>"YES..." Crowley cried. "Yes... yes... " and pulled Aziraphale up by his wrists and kissed him passionately. "I love you, Angel... I love you!" he whispered and held him tightly.</p><p>Azirphale smiled, then laughed and kissed Crowley like a starved man getting his first meal in ages. "I love you, Crowley." he smiled and wiped a tear from his eye. "Welcome home, darling." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>* Happy Christmas*</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Was that cheesy enough for you? I hope it got you into the Christmas spirit and I hope you're not gagging on the mc-cheesmo factor here but I couldn't resist.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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